


A Dragon's Home

by fairydream



Series: To Build A Home [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Family, Fluff, Human Dragons, Hurt/Comfort, and kind of papa!jon, and lots of family fluff, he's getting there, kids playing matchmakes bc they ship jonerys that hard, mama!dany, starks and targaryens bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-03-24 03:12:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 140,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13802169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairydream/pseuds/fairydream
Summary: The gods were cruel enough to take Drogo and Rhaego from her, but they gifted her with three beautiful and healthy babies.She was the mother of three boys now, her little dragons.In which Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion are Daenerys' real children.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey. This is my first ASoIaF and GoT fic, mainly written for the famous fan-art of Daenerys with Viserion, Rhaegal and Drogon as human boys.
> 
> I don't know if I should keep writing it more than a second chapter; I have a few ideas here and there to keep it going for more chapters but I would like to hear what you'd like to see so maybe I get inspirited for more ideas.

"You can't do this, khaleesi."  
  
Daenerys didn't hear him as she kept her eyes on the three babies lying down on her bed, side by side, carefully staring back at her.  
  
She'd found them last night in a dark alley. There was no one in the streets as she took a walk to clear her mind. As if that was possible. She'd thought she was going insane once and for all when she heard a baby crying.  
  
She'd kept walking, trying to tell herself it wasn't real. Her Rhaego was gone; he'd never been able to cry in the first place, being taken away from her too soon.  
  
But the cry had grown stronger and louder. Daenerys had stopped in her tracks when she realized the sound of a baby crying was too loud for it to be just one, there had to be two. She'd fastened her pace and found herself in a dark alley, drawn to the box where the cries were coming from.  
  
There she found them. There she felt the same love and need to protect she'd felt for her Rhaego.  
  
There were three babies covered by a white sheet in a box. They were still covered in blood. They were newborns.  
  
She didn't call the police; instead she'd called Sir Jorah, one of her closest friends. When he came to her rescue, he found her breastfeeding two of the babies. She couldn't help it; they were hungry and she had what they needed.  
  
Sir Jorah insisted in calling the police but she refused. They needed her as much as she needed them. He helped her get them home and kept insisting in calling the ambulance and the police, for they were newborns and needed to be checked on. Still, the babes were peaceful as ever as they were put down on her bed, pillows around them and blankets on their small bodies.  
  
They weren't naked anymore; she had enough of Rhaego's clothes to give them. They were warm and calm, almost happy to be around her, as there was a growing happiness in her heart that hadn't been there for days, ever since she lost her son and husband.  
  
When Sir Jorah realized she wasn't going to listen to him about the police, he tried to insist in keeping only one of them and giving up the other two, because she wouldn't be able to raise three children. One was already too much to take in, three were impossible. Daenerys had kept silent all through his sermon, focused as ever on the three babies looking at her with their wide eyes.  
  
They were three babies boy. Beautiful in their own way.  
  
Sir Jorah told her she was just a child and that she couldn't take care of all of them. One death glare from Daenerys said it all. He sighed, defeated and worried for her, she knew he had the best intentions and only wanted what was best for her, but this was what was best for her.  
  
She belonged to them now, as they belonged to her.  
  
"Are you going to help me then?"  
  
Sir Jorah was a man of business and he knew people in the hospital that wouldn't dare to go against his word or Daenerys Targaryen's word. It wouldn't be that difficult to say she'd had four babies instead of one; she'd given birth to Rhaego in the hospital and then gave birth to the other three in her house. She'd read of pregnancies in which babies were born in different days. No one would dare to contradict her.  
  
Once Sir Jorah confirmed her that everything was okay, she'd take them to the hospital for them to be checked.  
  
"What shall they be called?" Sir Jorah asked from the doorway.  
  
Daenerys looked down at the babies as she was sitting in front of them. She looked at the one lying down at her right, looking at her with wide dark green eyes. It reminded her of the tales Viserys used to tell her about Rhaegar; he'd died in the green banks of the Trident. She smiled down at the baby, and knew he deserved the name.  
  
"This one shall be Rhaegal, for my brother who died in the green banks of the Trident. He has green eyes," she explained to Sir Jorah when she saw a frown on his face. He nodded to her as she looked to the next baby.  
  
She chuckled to see a small frown on the baby's face, as if he were upset despite all the comfortable things he had around. His eyes were orange, almost red, reminding her of fire. Her family's symbol was a dragon; fire and blood were their words. This baby almost looked like he had fire in his eyes, and his frown reminded her so much of her late husband.  
  
Daenerys smiled as she gently caressed the small forehead of the baby. "He'll be Drogon; he has the fire of a dragon in his eyes and he reminds me of my husband."  
  
Her eyes landed on the last baby and saw as he yawned and closed his tiny hand into a fist, bringing it to his mouth, looking like a little angel. His eyes were like melted gold, reminding her of the way her brother Viserys had died, with a crown of melted gold on his head. Viserys had been cruel and weak, he'd always abused her, but he was still her brother. He used to take care of her when no one else would; he never abandoned her when he could have. He'd been kind once, before having to sell their mother's favorite jewel. It was not his fault he had inherited their father's madness.  
  
"He shall be called Viserion, for my brother Viserys. He was weak and cruel yet he was my brother, and Viserion will be what he could not."  
  
She knew in her heart Viserion would be strong and kind; he sent a wave of peace to her way whenever their eyes would lock.  
  
"I will call you when I have news, khaleesi. Are you sure you can be alone?"  
  
"Yes, and if I need help, I'll be sure to call Irri and Doreah."  
  
Sir Jorah nodded to her and walked out of the room. She looked back to the babies, her boys; Rhaegal, Drogon and Viserion.  
  
She would be able to do this; she was a dragon and so were they. She didn't give birth to them and they didn't have her blood, but they had the fire. They had the fire that kept them warm and going in that cold, dark alley, as if they knew she was out there ready to go for them. They were strong and fierce as a dragon.  
  
The gods were cruel enough to take Drogo and Rhaego from her, but they gifted her with three beautiful and healthy babies.  
  
She was the mother of three boys now, her little dragons.

**I**

Drogon gave the first step. Rhaegal had the first teeth. Viserion said the first word.

Her little dragons were growing too fast. They were three by now, always running around and breaking things, developing their own personalities.

Drogon. Her little tornado. His hair had grown to be black as night, his orange eyes matching the sun, the freckles on his face and skin making him too adorable for his liking, as he was the taller of her boys. He turned out to be the grumpiest of the three; he was always too possessive and ready to snap at his brothers for things he didn’t like. He’d be the first one to throw the punch, the frown almost always on his face. She’d thought once to send him to a therapist, for his kicking and screaming sometimes were too much for her to bear. Still, whenever she became serious and hard, he’d obey her. She’d seen him one punching a boy on the arm because that same boy had punched Viserion first. He was protective of his brothers and her. He was a good kid with an attitude.

Daenerys smiled as he watched her sons playing in the background. Drogon was concentrated on playing with his soldiers as Rhaegal kept drawing on the little table she’d put for them there. His lips were parted as he kept his dark green eyes on the paper, too invested in the writing.

Rhaegal wasn’t a tornado but he also wasn’t as calm as the sea. His hair, unlike Drogon’s, had become bronze and rebel. He always complained about it getting in his eyes, so she had to cut it a bit shorter than his brothers. The freckles covered his and Viserion’s faces as much as they covered Drogon’s. He didn’t look for trouble as Drogon did, but he was always the first one to support his brother on it, looking up at him. He was impossible to get in the bath, no matter how much she showed him it was okay to do so, showing him how much Drogon and Viserion loved it. He was stubborn as none of her other boys, even more than Drogon, for he could act like a little grumpy toddler all he wanted, but he was still a mama’s boy when it came to it. Rhaegal, on the other hand, was more difficult to convince. He loved to play with sticks, always trying to hit something with it, ready to fight. Ser Barristan told her once she was right to name him after her valiant brother, even though Viserion looked to be more like what young Rhaegar was at his age.

Viserion, her smallest and sweetest boy. His hair grew to be as cream as it was possible, almost matching her color. He was the calmest of the three; always wanting to look at drawings in the books, always ready to hear her stories. He looked up at his brothers too much; he didn’t like the crying and screaming but still, he had a temper. Drogon had been upsetting him once too much, taking his book and crayons from him and running away with it. Viserion had cried and screamed, and he had pushed Drogon so hard his head hit the ground and blood got out from it. She’d panicked, for none of them had ever had a cut since that day. They were only one and a half back then. After that, Drogon was careful when to pick up on his brother. Viserion was a sweet as possible, always wanting “ _up”_ and being near her. He was the first one to cry if she was gone for too long.

“Mama,” Dany looked down to see Viserion on the new pajamas she’d brought for all of them; it had cute dragons all over the white cloth. He was scratching his eyes, letting out a yawn as he rested his head on her leg. She sighed and caressed his ever so soft hair. “Tummy hurts.”

Dany sighed and picked him up, putting him on her hip as her lips touched his forehead. He wasn’t warm anymore; well, not very warm, since he was always warm, as his brothers. It was afternoon but she still let him be on his pajamas since he’d been throwing up the whole day for eating too much candy last night under Irri and Doreah’s watch. Her friends told her they didn’t realize it was too much to give to a little kid until Viserion’s skin looked yellow.

She was grateful to have him telling her what it hurt, since Drogon and Rhaegal didn’t like to talk as much as their younger brother. – She’d come to the conclusion, and so they were annotated, Viserion was the youngest of the three since he was the smallest, as Drogon looked more to be the firstborn. Her sweet baby boy was the one that liked to be around other persons more, even if he was shy. Drogon’s glare intimidated people, even with his three years, as Rhaegal’s favorite word was ‘ _no’_ to tell others.

She was glad that her other two sons weren’t sick. Her boys had the habit to fall sick altogether. Rhaegal had been the first one to have a fever with his five months. Viserion and Drogon seemed to sense his brother’s health as they wouldn’t stop crying and fussing, even if the doctor told her they were perfectly fine, it was just only Rhaegal the one with fever. She’d cry with them, for it was too much for her. She didn’t know what was wrong with her son, and she didn’t know what to do to make it stop and to make her other two babies stop crying since nothing seemed to be wrong with them, yet it looked like it. They sensed each other’s anger and pain, as crazy as it sounded, or maybe not, because they were triplets. She’d read about twins having the strongest of connections, sometimes even more than with their mother.

They were different as the sun and moon, yet they had a strong connection, as she had with every one of them. There were something they all seemed to share and it scared her, as much as it made her proud. They loved to play with _fire_ , never fearing it but loving it.

Not long than a week ago, she’d found them playing with a lighter Doreah had forgotten in her house. Drogon was lighting it up near Viserion’s hair, both he and Rhaegal looking amused at it, big smiles on their faces. She’d screamed when she saw them; Rhaegal was ashamed, Viserion got scared by her scream and Drogon was upset she got mad at them.

“We love fire!” Drogon had protested, the frown forming on his face as his orange eyes glared up at her, his little arms crossing over his chest and an adorable put forming on his face. “We want fire!”

“No fire,” Daenerys had said in a stern voice, trying to look as angry as possible, for she’d been more scared than anything. Hadn’t she gotten to their room in time, Drogon could have lit up Viserion’s hair. She’d looked down to his youngest son, holding herself back from getting him in her arms to see his golden eyes filled with tears at the sound of her voice. “You can’t play with fire, is that clear?”

Drogon didn’t answer, only stared at her in anger. Rhaegal, to see the way his brother was reacting, matched his frown and shook his head. “No.” He dared to say, lifting his chin and the embarrassment being replaced by pride for standing up to her like his brother did.

Viserion’s lip had trembled, but he didn’t respond with a ‘ _yes mama_ ’ as he’d always do when she grounded them, which could only mean he wanted to side with his brothers but he also didn’t want to upset her.

“Then you’re all grounded, no fire and no TV until I say so again, understood?”

Doreah had caught them trying to steal her lighter more than one time after that incident. She’d seen the way Drogon would look in awe at the orange fire when she’d cook something. Rhaegal and Viserion loved to be near the chimney as much as they could, even if it was summer.

They were always warm like she was, and they loved fire as much as she did, but they were too young for it. She didn’t know if they’d resist the fire as she did. It was common in her family to be resistant to the fire more than a normal person; fire wouldn’t burn them or leave a mark.

Daenerys sighed and caressed Viserion’s back and forth as she watched Drogon starting to run after Rhaegal, trying to catch him. She smiled to see he couldn’t get him; Rhaegal seemed faster, and had his arms spread out, like he was flying.

“Dragon, can I play dragon too?” Viserion happily said as he pointed to his brother with his little finger, a smile breaking in his face.

“Not yet. Your tummy can hurt more if you run.”

Viserion pouted and didn’t say anything else as he cuddled against her neck. She smiled at the touch of his soft hair. Her sons’ favorite game was playing they were real dragons and that they could fly and spit fire.

She shouldn’t be surprised, though. They were Targaryen’s; they were the blood of the dragon as much as she was.

**II**

Daenerys looked up once more to see that her sons were safely playing in the park. Viserion was climbing up to the slide; Drogon was concentrated in making a beautiful and perfect sandcastle only to then destroy it once it was done. It made her lips curve into a smile as she watched him destroying his making for the third time. Her eyes moved past him to see Rhaegal running towards the slide to climb up after his brother.

She went back to her book. It was a quiet Sunday morning and there was nothing like passing the day with her children in the playground that was a few blocks from her new house. They’d moved to the south not long than a month ago, for she had to take back what was hers.

Her family’s empire of business. She’d been protected from it along with Viserys for all the people that were after them to kill them to end with the last Targaryens and keep their fortune. After her father’s murder, Robert Baratheon took over the Targaryen’s business, trying to kill them in the process. With Viserys dead, it was up to her to take back what had been stolen from them.

Robert Baratheon was dead and so were his children. His Lannister wife was the only one in charge and she was in a trial battle to take back her throne on her family’s company. The Lannisters hid behind the excuse of her father’s madness, telling lies about him making Baratheon his business associate before dying –or being murdered by Jaime Lannister in legitimate defense she’d heard.

No one had wanted to listen to her at first, not trusting in the child-girl. But she’d made a name of herself, taking over other people’s company with the people Drogo had left her behind, and with friends she’d gained in her own for helping people in need. All the way while raising three beautiful children.

Suddenly she wasn’t the child-girl anymore, but Daenerys Stomborn of House Targaryen, rightful heir of the Iron Throne – how everyone liked to refer to the iron chair that was kept in the highest room of the huge Seven Kingdoms Company – rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains.

Now everyone knew who Daenerys Targaryen was in the whole nation.

Her titles could be a bit extremists but she owned them to the people that believed in her. There was one that she liked most out of all. The Mother of Dragons, people started calling her after she survived her house burning down along with her sons. She came out of it unharmed as her children did. They started calling her sons _dragons_ , referring to her family’s motto of the dragon having three heads, and she was their mother, the Mother of Dragons.

Her sons couldn’t be more proud of the title, even if they didn’t understand how mean some people could be to consider them _freaks_. She tried to ignore those kinds of people as long as they weren’t directly saying that to her children’s faces. People respected and feared them, even if her children weren’t more than six years old and she wasn’t older than twenty-four.

It was a good thing, though. She had enemies she would like knowing they were the blood of the dragon and not just ordinary people they’d be able to step on.

Daenerys looked up from her book to see Viserion was helping Drogon in building his sandcastle, _again_. Her purple eyes searched around the place, a frown drawing slightly in her face to see Rhaegal wasn’t anywhere to be seen. She pushed the book aside and rose from the bench, the worry starting to take over her.

Ser Jorah was next to her in a second, a worried look crossing his features. “Is everything okay, khaleesi?”

“Where is Rhaegal?”

The old man looked around the place and noticed the absence in a second. There was no one else in the playground for it had been closed for just her – her securities men were all around it and in every corner of the streets, Rhaegal couldn’t just disappear into nothing.

As Ser Jorah took out his gun and phone to alert the others, Daenerys hurried towards her other two sons and knelt down next to them.

“Viserion, Drogon,” she tried her best to look calm but there was already concern on their faces as they watched her with their wide eyes. They had always managed to feel their discomfort whenever she was upset. “Where is your brother? Where is Rhaegal?”

Drogon stared at her curiously before focusing back on his sandcastle, like she hadn’t said anything. Viserion, on the other hand, seemed to have pay attention more than his brother.

“He liked the dog.”

“Dog? What dog?”

“The white dog.”

Daenerys would know if something bad happened to her son, but she needed to be sure. Her little dragons seemed to share a stronger connection between them than she did with them. “Is he okay?”

Drogon hummed a ' _yes_ ' in response, listening to their conversation after all, just not caring enough to answer to her questions. That was why he was so calm – because he knew his brother was fine. Still, Rhaegal was just six years old and was missing – knowing he was alright wasn’t enough for her.

Ser Jorah and Grey Worm approached them, not even trying to hide the guns from the two boys. “We’re looking for them, khaleesi,” his old friend told her, trying to reassure her as much as possible with his calm eyes. “He can’t be that far. No one had gotten inside here, so we’re positive that –”

“He went after a white dog,” she whispered, trying to control the crack in her voice. None of her children had ever gone missing, not even for five minutes; if they weren’t with her they were in trusting hands and she’d always made sure to have security men around them to never have to go through the pain she was having right now. “Find my son.”

Ser Jorah nodded his head and ran off towards the other men. Grey Worm stepped back from them but stayed near, being their personal guard as always. Her sons forgot all about building the sandcastle to be near her and look up at her with worry on their faces, though Drogon tried his best to hide it behind the angry frown starting to form between his eyebrows.

“Rhaegal?” He asked, his frown deepening to see her shaking her hand before he held it and squeezed it, gaining her attention. “Where is he?”

“He’s… he just went after the white dog but he’ll be back soon. It’s fine.”

“Stupid dog.”

She gave him a look, “Drogon.” No matter the circumstances, she wasn’t going to let her children swear.

Daenerys looked to her other side to find Viserion’s golden eyes filled with worry and fear. She tried her best to give him a genuine smile but knew that failed to see the fear still there. She held him close to her legs with her free hand, having the need to feel her other two boys near. She wasn’t going to burst into tears – no one could see her weakness but the panic was starting to get the best of her.

What if the white dog was just something to lurk Rhaegal into going to them, knowing they wouldn’t be able to break in through her security men. She wasn’t surprised to know that her son could have fooled the guards, for he knew how to sneak in and out and was quiet as ever when he wanted.

Cersei Lannister could have made this – everyone knew what a mad woman she’d became after the death of the only remaining Baratheon heir. She had only her life to lose, which meant nothing. She could easily plan to have her children taken away from her to leave her motherless like she was.

Daenerys was going to burn her alive if she touched a single hair of Rhaegal’s head.

“Khaleesi!”

She spun around, letting go of her children’s small hands immediately to see Rhaegal in Ser Jorah’s arms. She took him from the man and hugged him to her tightly, closing her eyes to feel the familiar warm and scent coming off of his little body. She let out a big sigh and moved away to see his face – he didn’t look scared or worried but bothered.

“Are you alright? Where were you?”

“I just wanted to pet Ghost! Can I go to him now?”

Her eyes looked past her son to see two of her security men taking hold of a man and another guard taking hold of a huge, white dog with red eyes. She put Rhaegal down and held him back when he tried to walk over to the man and his dog; his dark green eyes looked up at her with confusion.

“Who are you?”

The man couldn’t be older than her. He had black hair made into a bun, his eyes were a dark grey to the point they could be black, a dark beard that contrasted against his pale skin. The dog called for her attention when he growled and showed his teeth to the guard that was holding him back by his belt.

“Ghost. Stop it.” The man’s hoarse voice commanded to the white dog, which fell silent in a second. His dark eyes looked back at her and showed all the annoyance he had inside. “My name is Jon. Jon Snow.”

_Oh._

She should have known.

Only a Stark would dare to mess with a Targaryen.


	2. Chapter 2

“You Starks should know better than to get close to a Targaryen.”

The man, Jon Snow, frowned in clear annoyance. “I’m not a Stark,” though the sound of his voice gave away the agony his words carried.

“Ghost,” Rhaegal whispered and tried once again getting near the huge dog.

It wasn’t Daenerys the one that took him by his arm and put him back next to her, but Drogon. His frown was deeper than the one on the Stark man’s face.  “Mama said no. It’s a stupid dog.”

The white dog – Ghost, growled at Drogon, getting an inch closer to them. Daenerys was quick to put the boy behind his brother and glare up to the dog’s owner.

“Call off your dog or he’ll know what dragons feed on.”

“Forgive me, _Your Grace_ , but that’s how he tends to reacts when he’s called a name he doesn’t like,” his lips curved to the side, almost forming a smirk. “And when someone treats me like a prisoner.”

“You’re not a prisoner,” her lips curved up this time, drawing a smile. “Not yet.”

Jon Snow narrowed his eyes down, towards the boy standing to her right. She gave him a glance, too; Rhaegal was confused as ever for the way they were reacting, looking back and forth between them. When she looked up at the man again, he saw him relaxing the tension off of his shoulder, taking a deep breath before finding her purple eyes.

“I didn’t kidnap the boy. We were in the park a few blocks away from here, Ghost happened to walk near here and he followed him. I was about to tell him to guide me back to his mother when _your_ dogs showed up.”

“It’s true. I didn’t get to pet Ghost a lot,” Rhaegal complained, pulling her coat to get her attention. “Sir Jorah scared me.”

She looked up at her friend; there was an apologetic and surprised look on his face. He opened his mouth to explain himself but she gave him a slight shake of head to tell him it was fine. He reacted like she would have expected; there was an unknown man near her son after he got missing.

“Take the boys to the car and leave us.”

“Khaleesi?”

Daenerys gave him a look that left room for no arguments. Sir Jorah didn’t need anything else to nod towards the men that were holding back Jon Snow and his dog. They let go of them and walked away, as she waited for Sir Jorah and Grey Worm to disappear from her sight with her children. Once she glanced over her shoulder to make sure the boys were safe in the black car, she moved her eyes back to the man in front of her.

He didn’t look to be any less annoyed than he was before when he was being held back by the Unsullied. She didn’t know him at all, but she didn’t need to know much to recognize the sorrow that his dark grey eyes held.

_“I’m Jon. Jon Snow.”_

_“I’m not a Stark.”_

Now she remembered. He was a Stark from tip to toe; she wasn’t mistaken to recognize him as Eddard Stark’s son, though she forgot the bastard part. He didn’t get the honor to carry his father’s last name because he wasn’t born into marriage – a tradition that everyone in the Seven Kingdoms kept going on throughout the years. But he had the wolf blood running through his veins. That was something clear.

Daenerys couldn’t say she saw malice in him. He looked upset for the situation he had just endured, but nothing else than that. He didn’t look to be a man that was around the park kidnapping children – certainly not a Targaryen child, if he was wise to remember what the Starks and Targaryens history was with kidnapping.

“I hope you understand my situation in all this,” she began to explain in a much softer and lower voice than she had before. The anger and fear was long gone knowing Rhaegal was safe, but she couldn’t help but feel a bit upset that it’d been a Stark the one involved in her child being missing if only for a few minutes. “I am at war with the Lannisters,” she arched an eyebrow to him, trusting he’d understand the meaning of her words, for they both had been raised by the same rules of this huge and wicked game. “My son goes missing and he’s found with a Stark. I had my reasons to think –”

“That I would give a child to the Lannisters?” Jon Snow finished for her, not a bit surprised by it but confused. “If you know us as you think you do, you should know we are not more friends of them than you.”

Daenerys was well aware of the ongoing war between the Starks and the Lannisters; how Joffrey Baratheon commanded to behead Eddard Stark for false charges, how the young King – she grimaced to picture him as such on a thing it was hers by right – and his mother made a hell out of Sansa Stark’s life while Tywin Lannister took care of Robb Stark and his lady mother.

Still, there was a time when the Starks and the Lannisters were at peace with each other and fought against her own family. The past was the past, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t come back.

“We’re settled, then.”

“Are we? I haven’t heard you apologize.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, the fire inside her growing at his audacity to talk to her like that. He knew who she was – and oh she knew who he was and why he was acting all entitled. He _knew_ he wasn’t going to get an apology from her other than the explanation she gave him just seconds ago.

But he was a wolf, a presumptuous wolf.

“Goodbye, _King in the North_ ,” she made sure for the venom on her words to be as clear as his were when he referred to her as _Your Grace_.

The frown was back between his dark eyebrows – it suited him. She gave him a nod accompanied with a small smirk before turning around and walking towards her car, the curve of her lips disappearing the further she walked away, for meeting a Stark wasn’t how she planned her quiet Sunday morning to go.

**I**

“She did what?!”

Jon sighed; he regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth, but he thought that it’d be best if his sisters heard it from him instead of finding out by others. The park was closed for the Dragon Queen and there weren’t many people on the streets around, but the few that were there would gossip about the bastard Stark being accused of taking the Targaryen child.

“She can’t do that, who does she think she is?”

“Daenerys Targaryen,” Sansa answered her sister with an annoyed tone. Jon could see it had bothered her but not as much as it did to Arya; she truly was the wild wolf of the family. “That’s who she thinks she is,” her blue eyes moved past her and towards him. “Did she yell at you? Did her men hit you?”

He gave her a shake of head to which she nodded. However, that wasn’t enough for their younger sister. “But she treated him like a criminal when he did nothing wrong! Why didn’t you show her what Ghost can do to her men?”

Arya was too impulsive for her own sake, much more than he was. He knew Sansa wouldn’t like the idea of her brother being held back by the command of a Targaryen woman, but she was probably glad that it didn’t come further than that, or they’d have to take actions for their family’s honor. He also knew that Arya wouldn’t think it that way; no one could hurt her family, in any way, and get away with it.

Long gone was the innocent little girl he had looked upon when they were younger, replaced by a girl that had gone through too much to keep believing in such innocence.

“We can’t start a war with her,” Sansa spoke up before he did.

“And there were three children,” Jon added as matter of fact. He did think of their mother as an ambitious and presumptuous woman, but the kids had nothing to do with it – despite him not liking much the comment about Ghost of the black-haired boy. “Her kid got missing and she was worried about him, as much as I disliked her, I understand her point.”

“So that’s it? We let her get away with treating you like crap just because of her children and because she’s a Targaryen?”

Sansa pursed her lips. Jon knew what it meant; Arya was starting to get in her nerves. “Yes. It didn’t escalate further. We can’t go after the Targaryens. We have to concentrate on ruling Winterfell.”

The wolf-girl glared at her, “How can we rule Winterfell if they see that a Targaryen doesn’t respect us? _Again_?”

“By showing them mercy for this time,” Bran spoke up for first time. He was always so quiet everyone in the room could forget he was there till he’d find the right time to talk. “If she tries to go any further than that, then we should do something.”

Jon watched as the tension lifted off of Arya’s shoulder to hear their brother’s wise words. They knew Bran wouldn’t speak if it wasn’t necessary; he was the only one that was capable of convincing them of anything. He was wise beyond his years, calling himself the Three-Eyed Raven, someone that could see the past, the present and the future.

He was glad they decided to not take actions against the Targaryen Queen; they were home, at last. That was where he wanted him and his siblings to stay after the war that had separated them and forced them to transform into what they had to survive. They had to take care of their home; they had enough with Cersei Lannister now that Winterfell proclaimed him King in the North, becoming an independent piece on the Seven Kingdoms Company. Not to mention the little – soon to become big – problem that was beyond the north. They didn’t need any more enemies.

Much less Daenerys Targaryen.

Jon knew the moment Rhaegal told him his name that there was going to be trouble. He didn’t recognize him at first; no one would for the Targaryen children weren’t much known to the world, their mother had made sure of that.

He didn’t know what to make of her, but for the little they had talked, she’d already judged him based on his blood, when he could have done the same, giving whose daughter she was. It seemed like she forgot her father had murdered his uncle and grandfather, burning them alive. He wished to believe she was under a stress situation and that was what didn’t let her think clear, but he knew that the feeling of entitlement that radiated off of her wasn’t something just for the moment.

But he was sure of something. She was the Dragon Queen everyone spoke so much about.

**II**

“Jon Snow? Ned Stark’s son?”

Dany gave him a nod, her fingers holding on to the cup of wine that she needed so much after what she went through. It wasn’t long before Tyrion Lannister heard about one of the Targaryen kids going missing that he was already at her house to know the details. He was clearly surprised by the news of her meeting the so called King in the North because Rhaegal had run off after his dog – or wolf she had to say.

She’d been told of every one of the Stark children having a wolf of their own, even though everyone just pretended they were dogs.

“Did you accuse him of taking Rhaegal?” Daenerys threw a death-glare to his way to hear the tone of his voice, like he was saying something stupidly obvious to her. That was enough answer to him. “What did he say?”

“He explained Rhaegal followed… Ghost,” she arched an eyebrow to the name and brought the cup to her lips. “He said he was about to take him back to me when my men showed up.”

Tyrion was silent for a moment before he nodded, “I don’t think he did it on purpose. He is Eddard Stark’s son; he’s a man with honor. He wouldn’t kidnap a child to get to someone.”

She knew of Eddard Stark’s reputation about honor, even though that didn’t take away the fact that he was a traitor – though the lady her brother had ran away with had been _his_ sister. Daenerys sighed and shook her head slightly, trying to erase the past from her mind. It was too difficult to think about it right now.

“I sure hope so.”

“And what did you think of him?”

“Him?”

“Jon Snow.”

“What is there to think? He clearly believes he’s a King and that I’m just another pawn.”

There was a small smirk forming on the Lannister man’s face before he drank from his cup. She frowned, knowing that could only mean he had other ideas that wouldn’t share with her. She opened her mouth to ask him about it, but was interrupted to see her sons running towards her with Doreah and Irri right after them.

“Khaleesi, I’m sorry but they…”

Dany gave them an understanding look and looked down at the three kids standing in front of her. Drogon seemed upset, when not, while Rhaegal looked to be excited about something as Viserion had curiosity taking over his face.

“I told him no,” the tallest of the boys started, glaring at his brother next to him.

Rhaegal ignored him as he kept his determined green eyes on her. “When are we seeing Ghost and Jon again?”

Daenerys was a bit surprised by that. It’d been true that Rhaegal wouldn’t stop asking her on the way home when he could see the white dog again even though she’d already told him they couldn’t see him because they didn’t know this… Jon Snow and how to contact him. It looked like he wasn’t going to give up on the idea.

“Rhaegal, sweetling,” she filled herself with all the patience in the world as her hands reached out to take his tiny hands between hers. She should have known her son wouldn’t let it go; he was too stubborn. “We can’t see Ghost again. We don’t know Jon Snow.”

A frown drew between his eyebrows, resembling his brother. “Why not?”

“Because… I just met him today and I don’t know how to see him again. I’m sorry, my darling, but that’s just not possible.”

She felt the temperature of his skin going higher before he shook his hands away, the frown on his face deepening as anger filled his eyes. “It’s not fair! Drogon asked to go see tigers and we went to see the tigers. I want to see Ghost!”

Dany wasn’t surprised to see the jealousy about his brother coming out again in Rhaegal. He’d been making comments about Drogon getting everything and she didn’t miss the way he’d glare at him whenever the black-haired boy would seek for her comfort. Missandei told her it was normal for brothers to be jealous of each other, but she hated this tension between them.

“That was different,” she tried to explain with the calmest voice she could manage. “If you want to come back to the zoo, we can –”

But the boy refused by shaking his head before screaming and kicking his foot on the ground, “I want Ghost!”

“I said no.” Her voice was cold and hard, but she knew she had to use it when her children became too spoiled and stubborn. She gave them everything they wanted but there were limits that she had to remind them of. “Do not yell at me, young man. I won’t tolerate that. Am I clear?”

That seemed to only anger more the little green dragon, as everyone called him. “No! Because all you care about is Drogon, you don’t care about me or Viserion!”

He took Viserion by his arm and dragged him away to their room. Doreah and Irri gave her a pity smile before walking after the two boys as she took a deep breath and put a hand on her forehead, knowing she’d have to have a conversation with him – or them, considering Rhaegal seemed to include his younger brother in all this, too. She didn’t understand where this was coming from; she treated the three of them with the same attention and love.

“He’s stupid,” Drogon said breaking the brief and tense silence of the room.

“Drogon,” she snapped at him, wanting to know where the hell he learnt that word that he wouldn’t stop using. “You can’t say that about your brother.”

“But he is.”

“No, he is not, and if you keep saying that word you’ll have a time-out.”

The six year old groaned before walking away towards his room. Dany closed her eyes and rested her back against the couch; she would have never imagined Jon Snow would cause so much trouble between her and her son – but there was no way she’d try to contact him, much less because of his wolf that seemed to amazed her boy. She knew Rhaegal would forget about this man because this was beyond him; it had to do with her and his jealousy about Drogon, but she wanted him to forget him now.

“Children,” Tyrion commented as he refilled his empty cup with red wine. “They’re difficult to handle – but for the experience I’ve had with my niece and nephew, I can tell you he’ll forget about it soon enough.”

Sometimes Daenerys forgot the Lannister children were Tyrion’s family. She’d been told about sweet Myrcella and kind Tommen; they were good children, so different from their older brother. Tyrion rarely spoke of them but when he did, he’d say nothing but nice things. It was clear it pained him to remember them… but in a good way, not like the way he didn’t want to remember his sister.

It still surprised her how much she got involved with a Lannister. She could call him a friend; a _real_ friend. He was her right hand, always there to give her his honest opinion, even if she didn’t like it. When she truly knew him she realized not everything could be lost about House Lannister – that was if he was the only one left.

Dany got up and sighed. “I’ll speak with him before Theon arrives,” she almost forgot about the Greyjoy man coming over to discuss about his uncle kidnapping his sister.

Tyrion gave her a nod. “I’ll be waiting in the office.”

She walked through the hallway and took a deep breath; she knew how stubborn Rhaegal could be when an idea got in his little head. She opened the door and walked inside; Doreah and Irri were sitting on the floor with Viserion and Drogon, playing with their small cars. Rhaegal was sitting on his bed, arms crossed over his chest and a frown on his face as he stared forward, not even moving his eyes to look at her.

Doreah was quick to jump up and walk towards her. “I tried talking to him, Khaleesi, but…”

“It’s okay, Doreah. I need a moment with him.”

Her handmaid nodded slightly and walked back towards her two sons to ask them if they wanted to play in the gardens. They never refused to be outside so it lasted a second for them to stand; she didn’t miss the way Doreah offered her hand to Drogon but the boy glared at her and took Irri’s hand instead, as Viserion took her other hand. Something felt off, but she didn’t find it much strange considering there were only few people Drogon liked.

His mother. His brothers. Irri. Missandei. And he’d talk a few words to Tyrion and Sir Jorah when he was in a good mood.

She waited for them to close the door behind her before taking careful steps towards the angry little boy. Their beds were in every corner of the room, to the exception of the door. They didn’t want to have their own bedrooms yet. Rhaegal’s bed, in particular, was in the back of the left side; meanwhile Viserion’s was also on the left side, just closer to the door. Drogon’s bed was the only one on the right and across Rhaegal’s.

Dany sat on the edge of the bed and tried to find his green gaze, but he kept refusing to look at her. “I know you’re angry about something I did, and I know it doesn’t have to do anything with Jon Snow and Ghost, so I want you to tell me.” His cheeks were more pink than usual, meaning the temperature in his body was going higher, which was something that she learned happened to all three of them when they got upset. “I don’t care only about Drogon; I care about you and Viserion as well. You know that.”

“Lie,” there was nothing that got in her nerves more than someone calling her a liar, but she had to remember this was her son. He finally looked at her and she frowned to think she saw a spark of fire crossing his eyes for a moment. “You take him to work and not us.”

Oh. So that was what all this was about.

Drogon hadn’t stopped talking to his brothers about it for a week and only stopped when she told him to after she realized it was starting to upset the other two boys.

It’d been just one time and it wasn’t like she didn’t take Rhaegal and Viserion with her because she wanted to; she’d agreed to take all three of them so they could see who she was to the other people, but Rhaegal had a strong headache that day and Viserion wouldn’t leave his side. She didn’t want to leave but it was something that had to be done that day or else she’d miss the opportunity. Since she couldn’t take Rhaegal and Viserion with her, she wanted Drogon to stay, but the boy made a huge scene when she told him he had to stay, throwing the _promise_ she’d made to her face.

She took Drogon that day and took Viserion and Rhaegal to her office two days after; though they complained it wasn’t the same to what their brother had been speaking so much about.

The thing was, she took Drogon with her to Vaes Dothrak, when she took command of the Great Khals, becoming their leader. He saw her giving a speech to men that were bigger than her, he saw them all bending down to her – he didn’t see the temple burning down and he didn’t know about that, but what he saw was enough for him to be truly proud of her.

“When I took Drogon to Vaes Dothrak, your head hurt a lot, do you remember? I couldn’t take you to there, sweetling.”

“I wanted to go!”

“I know, but you couldn’t go because you were sick. The same thing would have happened to Drogon if that was the case. But I need you to know I care about all of you in the same way.” The anger didn’t fade away as he looked down, trying to ignore her. She sighed and knew there was only way for him to believe her. “When I take back the Seven Kingdoms, I promise to take you to there when I defeat those who wronged our family.”

A few seconds passed before he looked up at her curiously and a spark took over his green eyes, making them shine as a smile broke in his face. “Really? And I can sit in the Iron Throne?”

“Of course you’ll can.”

His face fell suddenly serious. “But before Drogon.”

Dany sighed. “Rhaegal. I love you as much as I love Drogon. I don’t like you fighting each other or thinking I love one more than the other. You’re my children.” _The only children I’ll ever have._

He seemed to consider her words for a moment. “Okay… but Drogon says you love him more and I hate when he says that!”

She didn’t know about that. She contained the sigh escaping from her lips. “I’ll tell him to stop saying that because it’s not true, alright?”

The little boy nodded as Dany watched him putting on the face he made every time he was questioning something. She waited for the question, knowing it’d come.

“And if you find Jon Snow, will you ask him to let me pet Ghost?”

She frowned, confused as to why he was so determined about the wolf. “You don’t like animals. What’s so special about Ghost?”

He seemed surprised by her question, like it wasn’t something he thought of before. He was a child, of course he wouldn’t ask himself that, but it still took him back. He eventually shrugged it off, “I just like him. But will you do it, mama? Will you ask Jon if you see him again?”

She sighed and knew what to answer because there was no way she was going to see him again – not until she took back the Seven Kingdoms and had to deal with Winterfell claiming to be independent.

“Yes, I will.”

**III**

Daenerys’ lips curled up to feel the strong wind against her face as she looked down to the blue sea under her. She was warm – so warm, she closed her eyes as she listened to nothing but the peaceful sound of the wind and the sea. There was nothing like flying.

The roars made her open her eyes and look forward, her smile only widening at the sight of the two other dragons as she held on to the black dragon she was riding. She knew she was dreaming – she’d been dreaming of them ever since she married Drogo. They were smaller than a cat at first and now they were larger than a horse. They always felt familiar as she had a need of protection and love similar with them to the one she shared with her children.

She could have thought she was transferring her feelings for her boys into the dragons she’d made up in her dreams, but that wasn’t possible. There were similarities between them; the three dragons of her dreams were black, green and white and people had started calling Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion by those names.

It was a rare coincidence, since the first dream she had of them – of the tiny black dragon on her shoulder as the white and green ones held on to her arms – was months before she met her babies.

The coincidences only convinced her more that they were destined to be with each other.

A screeching cry made her head snap up, watching as the white dragon flew faster than normal in circles; her eyes moved down a bit, widening in surprise to see the green dragon being held back by his wings with ropes that came from a ship. He was desperately trying to fly away but he kept sinking down, crying out in pain and fear, she could feel it.

Anger filled her at the insolence of whoever was in that ship. The black dragon expressed her fury as he let out a roar that could shake grounds. He started flying down quickly, the white dragon imitating him across them, as she realized why the green dragon wasn’t attacking to break free from the ropes and the men holding him back.

She had to wait for the precise moment –

The black dragon came close enough to the right of the ship as the white one got near the left side.

That was enough.

“Dracarys.”

Fire covered her sight as a smile drew on her face.

Daenerys’ eyes snapped open, her breathing was heavy. Her throat was dry so her hand reached out towards her nightstand but instead she found skin. Her brow furrowed as she moved her head to the side to see the shadow of a kid on her bed.

She sat up straight and turned on the lights. Viserion was there on his white pajamas that had blue dragons all over it as his arms were wrapping around his stuffed cream dragon. His eyes carried fear and worry in them.

“What happened, darling?”

It’d been months since one of the boys had a nightmare bad enough for them to want to sleep with her, though she never minded.

“Mama, you always say we have to help each other because we are brothers and brothers look out for one another, right?” Her frown deepened in confusion but she gave him a nod to notice he was waiting for her response. “But you always say too that we have to sleep when it’s night and that we can’t leave the house alone, because it’s dangerous.”

“And that’s true. Viserion… why are you telling me this?”

His bottom lip trembled in fear as his golden eyes wouldn’t dare to look at her, instead focusing on the sheets between them. “And you also said Rhaegal couldn’t see Ghost again because you didn’t know where to find Jon Snow,” worry started to settle in her when she understood what the little boy was trying to say. “He said he knows where Jon is. So he went to find him.”

**IV**

Rhaegal didn’t understand.

He knew this was the right bench where Ghost guided him to Jon Snow. He knew his mama always said the night was to sleep, but his mama and her friends always stood up late at night – it was something grows up were allowed to do. Jon was a grown up; he thought he would be here instead of sleeping.

But he wasn’t and Rhaegal didn’t like this park. He didn’t know it as much as he knew the one where he played with his brothers that morning. There were loud sounds around this place.

The little boy snorted, knowing his plan was ruined. He had to find Jon Snow so he’d take him back to his mama and then she could ask Jon about him seeing Ghost some other times.

One good thing was that his mama didn’t know he wasn’t home because she would get mad at him. He turned around to walk back but froze to not remember what direction he had to take.

Someone bumped into him, making him fall on his butt. “Watch where you going, boy.”

His dark green eyes glared up at the man when he gave him one look and kept walking in a funny way, like he was about to fall at any time. But the man stopped on his tracks and turned around, his eyes narrowing as they stared at him.

Rhaegal stood on his feet and didn’t move his eyes off the man, even though he didn’t like him. Something felt off about him. He never liked strangers – except for Jon – but this one had something on his face that made him want to hide behind his mama’s legs.

“What's your name, child?”

Mama said to never talk to strangers. He had already broken the rule when he told Jon his name but that was because Jon was nice and he said his name first.

“Nice green dragons you have on your pajamas,” the man smiled but it wasn’t a kind one. It made him swallow and take a step back. “I know of a family that loves dragons. The Targaryens. Do you know them?”

Three men – he was proud he learnt how to count before his brothers – appeared behind the man. He didn’t like this, he wanted to go home and apologize to his mama for sneaking out – he was going to tell her what he did even if she didn’t know and he was going to tell her about this man that seemed to know their family.

The man walked a step closer to him. “You are Rhaegal Targaryen, aren’t you, little man? My name is Euron Greyjoy. My nephew knows your mother, you can trust me.”

Greyjoy. He’d been playing with his brothers in the gardens that afternoon when he saw a skinny man escorted by the Dothraki walking towards his house. Viserion had asked who he was and Irri told him he was Theon Greyjoy, a new friend of their mother.

But Rhaegal didn’t know this Theon Greyjoy and he didn’t trust him, even if he was his mama’s friend. He only trusted Irri, Missandei, Mr. Tyrion, Sir Jorah and Doreah if he wanted to – sometimes she was nice and sometimes she was mean to them.

“No,” he walked back, knowing this Euron Greyjoy wanted to do something bad to him. He saw it in his blue eyes. “I want to go home,” he declared hoping that was enough for him to leave him alone.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, lad.”

 _Dragons don’t fear, people fear **them**_ , was what Drogon always said. He was a dragon and he couldn’t be afraid. He’d just wanted to find Jon and now there was this evil man telling him he couldn’t go home.

He wanted his mama. And he wanted her _now_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like little Rhaegal is really the most stubborn of the three, isn't he?
> 
> First, I wanted to thank you all for your comments, kudos and bookmarks, I would have never thought someone would like this idea or that I would have such response, and your interest in this story is what makes me write more and more, new ideas came to my mind for it too, so I truly wanted to thank you.
> 
> Like I said before, if you want to see something in the story, just tell me and I'll see if I can manage to put it in along with the things I already have planned to write.
> 
> I promise there will be more of Jon next chapter.
> 
> Please don't forget to tell me what you think as it encourages me a lot!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi to everyone. First, I wanted to thank you all for your comments, I LOVE to read how you think the story is going to go or some ideas you want to see. Also, I'm sorry for the missed details and if there was any confusion about the story, sometimes I get too caught up with the characters that I forget to explain the background, thinking everyone would just assume what it was.
> 
> Since there was much confusion about some things such as what's the Company about or why Starks have been murdered and no one did anything about it, those things get explained in this chapter, though it'll be explained in more detail in chapters to come.
> 
> Something's not explained in the chapter because I felt it was too long already so I decided to talk about it here: Westeros is a country in Europe in this universe, included in the United Kingdoms, almost the size of Scotland and right next to it, integrated by states named as The North, The Crowlands, the Riverlands, the Iron Islands, the Vale, the Westerlands, the Reach, the Stormlands, and Dorne.
> 
> That being said, I won't bore you anymore. Long chapter ahead because I felt like I had to explain those things. I hope you like it and let me know what you think!

Rhaegal watched as the evil man, Euron Greyjoy, looked at the men behind him and nodded towards him. One of the men stepped forward and reached out to take him, but before his fingers could get to him, a sudden white fur appeared in the middle, scaring the boy and making him fall backwards.

“Ghost,” a hoarse voice called along with a whistle.

Strong arms took him from his arms and made him get up; Rhaegal looked up to find Jon’s face. He’d never felt so relieved in his life. “Jon!” He held on to his legs, not wanting to look behind and not even caring about the man screaming that Ghost ate his fingers. “I came here to find you but this evil man doesn’t want to take me home!”

Ghost appeared next to him, there was blood painting his white snout. Nonetheless, Rhaegal giggled when the wolf got closer to him to sniff him, trickling his face with his smooth fur.  He let go of Jon, knowing he’d be as safe with Ghost. He put a hand on the animal’s head and turned around to find that the man that had just wanted to take him seconds ago was gone and behind all the other men, watching his bloody hand.

“The boy stays here,” Rhaegal looked up at the sound of Jon’s voice. He sounded angry, nothing like that morning when he told him he could pet Ghost all he wanted. He moved his eyes forward to see that the smirk was gone from Euron Greyjoy’s face. “You can go looking for trouble somewhere else, Greyjoy.”

“I found him first, you’re not going to take the credit for it, bastard.”

Euron and the other two men pulled out small knives. Rhaegal frowned, knowing that wasn’t good. His mama always told him to stay away from those because they were sharp and could hurt him. Ghost took a step forward and growled at them; he wasn’t scared by him but his white teeth dyed with red weren’t something good to see.

Jon looked down at him for a moment, “Rhaegal please turn around and cover your ears.”

He frowned confused but did as he was told, stepping back and turning around with his hands on his ears. Only then Jon pulled out his gun; he hated to use it, preferring daggers or swords if he could use them. But everyone knew the Greyjoys stuck to old ways and were always carrying daggers with them instead of guns. He’d happily take them down with daggers but he wasn’t going to start a fight, not with the little boy behind him.

He enjoyed the look of Euron Greyjoy’s face to see the black gun and how he squeezed the grip safety of it. “You need a gun to fight us, Snow? Where is your honor?”

“Says the man that wants to take a child away from his mother,” Jon narrowed his eyes and kept the gun in one hand, knowing he wouldn’t need to use it. “That’s low, Greyjoy. But what can anyone expect from you?”

“Are you fucking his mommy? Is that why you’re doing this?” He laughed out loud shaking his head. Jon closed his free hand into a fist, wanting to punch the smirk off his face. “Cersei Lannister won’t like this.”

“I’m sure she won’t.”

“So tell me, Snow. How did you manage to get into the Dragon girl's bed? Is she good at it?”

Ghost growled so loud it made Euron flinch and step back, his smirk quickly fading away. Jon glanced over his shoulder to see that Rhaegal kept his back towards them, hands on his ears. He was glad he couldn’t hear such things about his mother.

“I can take you down even with your gun,” Euron said between clenched teeth. “And there are other two; your wolf won’t be fast enough.”

“Go ahead then.”

Jon waited, his two hands on the gun though it was down, Ghost kept growling as he showed them his teeth, ready to jump on any of them that dared to take a step forward. The seconds passed as the Greyjoy man kept looking back and forth between them, his fingers holding on to the dagger.

Finally, he saved the dagger as the men behind them imitated him. “I think I will enjoy more seeing Cersei’s face when she finds out about this.”

Jon gave him a nod, “Send her my regards.”

He couldn’t care less about Cersei Lannister’s opinion, though she was the reason he was in town. Even if she accepted the deal, now he didn’t want anything to do with her. It was one thing being in a battle trial with the Targaryen woman for the Seven Kingdoms Company and it was another thing kidnapping a child to get to her. He tried looking past their rivalry and how her family got away with murdering his brother and father, for he needed her help but that was long gone now.

Sansa was going to be mad and Arya would be happy to know that Cersei Lannister would be against them – even more than she already was.

Euron Greyjoy laughed at him and glared at Ghost before turning around and walking away with his two men and the third one that had his hand still bleeding. He looked down to try to see the fingers on the ground, but there was nothing there except for blood drops. He hid the smile to realize the man wasn’t wrong when he kept yelling Ghost had eaten his fingers.

Jon rubbed Ghost’s head as he turned around and bent down. He put on the grip safety of the gun again and saved it on his belt under his grey sweater. Rhaegal was still doing as he told him to; he put a hand on his shoulder and watched as he turned around, his eyes showing fear for a moment before it was suddenly gone when he saw no one was there but them.

“The evil man is gone?”

Jon nodded and paid attention to what he was wearing; white pajamas with green dragons on it. It was clear his mother wasn’t near but there was her kid in pajamas in the middle of a park. He frowned to remember what the boy had told him when he saw him; he’d come here to find him.

“Can I go home now? I miss my mama.”

Jon nodded and got up ready to walk away, but the boy was quick to take his hand; he realized then that there was still a bit of worry on his face. He wasn’t probably going to be calm till he was back with his mother. He started walking back towards his car, the little boy’s hand held on to his for his dear life as Ghost was attentive to be not next to him but Rhaegal’s.

“You shouldn’t be here; your mother must be really worried.”

“Mama doesn’t know I’m here…” Jon swallowed, that wasn’t good. He could already hear the yelling from the Targaryen woman thinking he’d kidnapped the boy before she’d let him explain. “Maybe Viserion told her, he gets scared when we break the rules.”

Jon took off the alarm of his car and opened the door of the backseat for Ghost to jump in. He helped Rhaegal climb after him and when he was sure the boy was comfortable, he secured the belt around his waist. Once it was done, he closed the door to walk towards the driver seat.

It was strange how trusting the little boy was with him. He was lucky he’d gotten in time to the park or else he would have been thrown to the lions. Jon had been in the same bar Euron Greyjoy was with his men; it’d been disgusting how he kept drinking and drinking and saying names to the waitresses. It upset him the bar’s owner wouldn’t say anything to him just because he was Euron Greyjoy. Sometimes it made him sick how people always looked the other way when it was about a family that was involved in the Seven Kingdoms Company.

Jon had left right before Euron but when he was in his car ready to leave, Ghost had started howling, something he didn’t do unless he was truly upset. Jon couldn’t figure out what he wanted but he did when the wolf wouldn’t stop trying to look for a way out. As soon as he let him out, he had to start running after him.

 “You said you came here to find me,” Jon muttered as he started driving, looking at any direction just in case the Greyjoy man wanted to take him by surprise. “I appreciate that, but you can’t run away from home, Rhaegal. Much less in the night. It’s dangerous.”

“I know, I won’t do it again,” the boy whispered in shame. Jon was sure what happened with Euron was enough of a lesson for him. “But I wanted to find you so my mama can ask you if I can see Ghost more times. She said she didn’t know where to find you but I did. So I came to find you.”

Jon arched an eyebrow as the car turned in a corner. He hoped he was taking the right direction; he never got near the Targaryen mansion but it was a known address since the mother of the boy decided to move there. He frowned to remember his words; she did know where to find him – she knew he lived in Winterfell, but of course she wasn’t going to go get him just because her son wanted to play with his wolf.

He looked through the rear-view mirror to see Ghost had his head on Rhaegal’s lap and enjoyed as the boy ran his fingers through his fur. He had to admit there was something special about them; Ghost didn’t like people unless he trusted in them. He never let kids pet him, always growling slightly when they tried to do it which scared the kids away. But he loved this little boy and the little boy loved him; he demonstrated that with the trouble he’d caused that morning and this night.

Jon knew he had to be near the Targaryen mansion as he recognized the motorcycles driving fast past him with the Dothraki men on them and the men in black suits that were walking all around the streets. Daenerys did know her son wasn’t home.

“Rhaegal… do you know what a promise is?”

There was a brief silence before the child spoke up, “Yes. It’s something you say that you can’t break. No matter what.”

“That’s right. There’s something you have to promise me, can you do that?” He looked through the rear-view mirror to see the confliction crossing Rhaegal’s face. “It’s not something bad, trust me.”

“Alright?”

“You can never, ever, run away from home again.”

**I**

“What do you mean you couldn’t find him yet?!”

Sir Jorah lowered his head ashamed. “We’re looking everywhere, khaleesi, but…”

“My son is just six year old and he keeps fooling all of you, the best securities in the world, fooled by a six year old,” Dany whispered between clenched teeth. “If something happens to my son…”

She didn’t even want to think about it or finish the sentence, so she turned towards the window and kept her purple gaze out. Sir Jorah’s footsteps walking away could be heard in the silent room. A single tear fell from her eye which she quickly wiped away, knowing she couldn’t bring herself to cry – there would be no stopping if she started, not until Rhaegal was back in her arms.

She was alone in her room; she didn’t want to be around anyone. It wasn’t the same situation like that morning for she’d felt such discomfort that knew wasn’t hers moments ago; something was wrong with Rhaegal. She’d grown more desperate to know she was right about her feelings when Viserion came in her room crying, Drogon right after him saying he’d woken up because he _knew_ Rhaegal was in trouble and he wanted to know where he was.

Both kids calmed after a while, as did the growing discomfort inside her. There was still something there; she knew her boy was missing her and needing her and it killed her that she couldn’t be there for him.

Jon Snow was her only hope.

Theon had told her this afternoon that Euron Greyjoy was in town; she wouldn’t be surprised to know he frequented bars and that he could be out there right now. If Rhaegal fell in his hands, there was no telling what he could do to him; hand him over to Cersei, take him to get to her by himself. None of the options comforted her.

Tyrion told her that Rhaegal’s best chance was that he had indeed found Jon Snow, for he’d known him for a while and was sure that he wouldn’t hurt a child or use him for his own benefit.

She could only hope that Rhaegal found Jon Snow and that the Stark would bring him back to her, but that option died when Sir Jorah had just told her that they hadn’t found any trace of them in the park where her son met Jon.

She’d given her friends and counselors enough time to look for the number they needed. Daenerys stormed out of the room and walked down the stairs, heading towards her office. She’d promised to Drogon and Viserion that their brother would be here by morning when she tucked them in bed by herself; wanting to be sure they were safe. It was midnight and there was no news about Rhaegal, she couldn’t keep waiting.

Dany snapped open the door of the office. Every voice inside died as their worried and scared eyes moved towards her; all of them holding their breaths. She couldn’t care less they could be afraid of what she could do when it was about her son’s safety they were talking about.

_“That’s enough. You’ve awoken the dragon, my sweet sister.”_

Viserys’ words echoed through her head as she slammed the door behind her.

“Did you find her number?”

Tyrion, who had arrived at her house not less than five minutes after she called him in distress, was the one that stepped forward and nodded. “Yes. We were discussing how to tell her –”

“There’s nothing to discuss. I will speak with her myself.”

The eyes in the room grew wild, for that was something she’d kept to herself before when she ordered them to look for Sansa Stark’s phone number, since rumors said that Jon Snow didn’t carry a phone with him, so there wasn’t any way to get directly to him. It was true that Sansa and Brandon Stark had returned to Winterfell that day, as Jon Snow and Arya Stark stayed in town for a few days more, but there had to be way for the red-headed Stark to contact her brother.

“I don’t think that’s proper considering the stress you’re under.” Varys was careful to say in a low voice.

Daenerys had to only gaze at him for the man to step back. She looked at the other people in the room; Missandei and Grey Worm, wanting to know if they were going to be dumb enough to try to stop her. This was about her son, not about trying to make potential alliances. She had to do it herself. Her friends just stared at her and so then she took a step towards Tyrion and held out her hand.

The Lannister man put the piece of paper and phone on her palm and took a step back. Dany looked down at the numbers and started dialing them; it was late at the night and she knew Sansa Stark wouldn’t be pleased to hear her, but Tyrion had known her and claimed she was a person with a kind heart.

If Sansa wasn’t of any help or even if she told them that Jon Snow indeed didn’t know anything about Rhaegal’s whereabouts, she’d already given the order to prepare her security men to break in Cersei Lannister’s house. She wasn’t going to waste any more time.

Sir Jorah broke in the room before she could finish the last number, “Khaleesi. They’re here.”

Jon looked around the place. It was a big mansion; the second floor was evident since there was a huge stair, but he guessed there had to be a third floor somewhere. No wonder a little kid could sneak out if they were smart enough, which Rhaegal clearly was.

“Do you think my mama is asleep? I should go wake her.”

Jon’s lips curved into the smallest smile at the boy’s innocence about his mother not knowing he had run away. He had made such a mess that he wasn’t even aware of.

“Rhaegal!”

He looked up to find Daenerys Targaryen running through the large hallway that was ahead of them. The little boy let go of his hand in that moment to run to his mother and jump into her arms once he was close enough. Jon patted Ghost’s head next to him and tried to look away; knowing this was an intimate moment, but the desperation mixed with relief flooding the silver woman’s face caught his attention.

It was evident she was living a hell not knowing where her child was.

“I’m sorry I ran away mama, I won’t do it again. I just wanted to help!”

Daenerys put him down and checked him up and down with her purple eyes that shimmered with tears. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Rhaegal shook his head and hugged her legs. “No, but an evil man, Euron Greyjoy, said I couldn’t come home, he was going to take me but Ghost and Jon saved me!”

Jon swallowed when Daenerys glanced over to him for a moment before taking the boy by his arms and pulling him away from her, bending down a bit to be at his height. “Rhaegal Targaryen. You can’t do that to me ever again. You do not know how worried I was.”

Jon couldn’t see Rhaegal’s face but he saw the way he lowered his head and he could imagine the shame he felt. “I’m sorry mama. I will never run away from home again. Jon made me promise too.”

Daenerys’ head moved up as her eyes bore into him. He straightened his posture a bit more to see her walking over to him, Rhaegal holding on to her hand. Once she stood in front of him, she took a deep breath before letting it out as the corner of her mouth lifted.

“Words cannot describe how grateful I am for what you did, Jon Snow,” her voice was low and so much softer than the one he’d heard that morning. “If Euron Greyjoy got his hands on my son…” she glanced down for a moment before focusing on him again, knowing he’d understand what she was trying to say. He noticed how her eyes caught sight of Ghost’s snout for a moment. “I will never forget this… anything you want that I can give you, you just have to tell me.”

“I just did what’s right, nothing more than that.”

“Any other person would have looked the other way or helped Greyjoy into taking him.”

Jon shook his head. “I’m not that kind of person.”

“I’m glad you are not,” she stared into his eyes for a few seconds before she cleared her throat and gave him a nod. “I know it’s late and you’re probably tired, but I have to insist in you coming over to here tomorrow morning to… discuss about the consequences of you saving my son from Euron’s hands. I’m well aware of what they are.”

Jon considered it for a moment, knowing she was right. Even if he didn’t care about Cersei Lannister and her help, it was true he was going to need it – that was the whole reason he was staying with his sister a few days more in this town. None of them felt comfortable enough to stay at King’s Landing after everything that happened there but this town Rosby was enough.

“You can come with Ghost!” Rhaegal said next to his mother, all but excited, forgetting about the fear he’d felt not long than ten minutes ago.

Jon had to smile to himself at that. He was glad the kid wasn’t afraid anymore. He looked up at her and nodded his head; he certainly didn’t save her son for this but Cersei’s help was off the list now and he didn’t have the numbers on his side.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning then,” he said before looking down at the kid. “Take care, young man. Remember that promise.”

Rhaegal nodded but as Jon was about to turn around to leave, he felt little arms wrapping around his legs, and so he moved his eyes down to see a bunch of bronze hair. He didn’t miss the shocked expression on his mother’s face. “Thank you Jon,” the child whispered as he looked up at him with a smile. He let go of him and wrapped his arms around Ghost tightly. “Thank you, Ghost. I’ll see you tomorrow. Viserion will love you!”

Ghost licked his face when he moved away making him giggle. Daenerys smiled at the sound and waited for her boy to be back next to her. Jon Snow gave her a nod and a half-smile before turning around and leaving with his wolf; she frowned for a moment because Rhaegal hugging people that weren’t her or Irri or Missandei wasn’t something common. He truly trusted in this Jon Snow.

“Isn’t Jon good?”

Daenerys found his green eyes filled with innocence, unaware of the danger he had been in hadn’t Jon found him at the right time. She rubbed the hair on the top of his head and smiled.

“Yes, he is.”

**II**

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Daenerys had her eyes focused out the window, watching as Rhaegal and Viserion rubbed Ghost’s back and head while Drogon sat on the bench of the garden playing on his tablet.

“You said he was around here for Cersei… he’s obviously not meeting with her anymore after not letting Euron take Rhaegal. It’s the least I can do for him.”

She heard Tyrion sighing behind her, though she didn’t understand his worry. He knew Jon Snow better than her and you could see from miles away that Jon was a man that wouldn’t ask for help unless he truly needed it. Whatever he wanted, she didn’t think it’d be too much of him.

Nothing would be too much after what he did for her son.

Dany turned around to find her friend already filling his cup with wine. She walked over to the desk and sat on the chair behind it, clasping her hands together on the table. She gave a nod to Grey Worm standing next to the door of her office room and watched him walk out.

“Please don’t drink while our guests are here,” she whispered with her eyes still forward.

Tyrion side-eyed her before placing the cup down on the small table next to him. “It helps me think.”

“You’re thinking too much, you know he won’t ask anything irrational.”

“So you trust him now?”

Daenerys looked at him to hear the mocking tone of his voice. She arched an eyebrow to him as he smirked to himself before taking the last sip of wine. The doors opened again as Jon and a short, teenager girl stepped in – Arya Stark, she guessed. She shared a resemblance with her brother.

Tyrion approached them and held out his hand to the man. “Jon. It’s been quite the time.”

Jon stared at his hand and long seconds passed before a half-smile drew on his face as he took the Lannister’s hand. “Good to see you, Tyrion.”

“Arya. You’ve grown.”

“You haven’t.”

“Arya,” Jon said under his breath, giving her a quick death-glare.

The brunette girl rolled her eyes and looked back at the short man in front of her. “Didn’t mean to offend you.”

“You didn’t. I remember your peculiar humor.”

Tyrion walked back towards her desk to stand next to it as the Stark siblings walked closer to it. She stood and held her hand out by habit; Jon stared at it for a moment, which made her realize that they’d never done this in the first place – their two last meetings weren’t the most formal ones. She felt stupid with her hand hanging but as she was about to put it down, Jon took it and shook it gently, giving her a short nod of head.

His skin felt cold against the warm of hers, but it was soft… nothing like what she would have thought.

“Good morning,” she cleared her throat a bit as their hands broke apart. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Good morning,” he repeated and mentioned towards his sister with his other hand. “This is Arya Stark, my sister.”

Dany gave a smile to the girl, though it faded a bit to see the cold look she carried in her grey eyes. “It’s nice to meet you, Arya.”

“Yeah…” she looked at her up and down in a second. “Nice to meet you, too.”

Her words were a bit forced, but Tyrion had told her that Arya Stark wasn’t the warmest person and how he thought that she’d be mad to know of what happened when she thought Jon had kidnapped Rhaegal. It looked like he wasn’t wrong.

Daenerys sat down as the Starks took the chairs across her desk. “I won’t waste your time, Jon Snow. I’ve been told you were in town because of Cersei, given what happened and if it’s a matter of help, I’ll do anything in my power to give you what she would have. And even when I do, I won’t forget what you did for my son.”

“I know the danger a child of a Lannister’s enemy can suffer at their hands,” he looked a bit uncomfortable to say that in front of Tyrion, but her friend didn’t even flinch by it, knowing it to be true. “I wouldn’t want that on Rhaegal or any other child for that matter.”

“Despite you treated him like a criminal just yesterday.”

“Arya.”

“No, she’s right,” Dany intervened, knowing she owned it to him. Jon looked back at her with a curious frown on his face. “I was wrong to think the worst of you and I apologize for that. I judged you based on the history between our families…” she glanced over to Tyrion for a moment before taking a deep breath and looking back at the man and girl across her. She knew the way Arya was reacting to her wasn’t just because of what she did to Jon, but for her blood – whose daughter she was. “I would also like to apology on behalf of House Targaryen for what my father did to your grandfather and uncle.”

There was a silence in the room. She noticed the confusion drawing in Tyrion’s face as the surprise settled in the Stark siblings. Long seconds passed, maybe a minute, before Jon cleared his throat and met her eyes.

“We appreciate the apologies.”

Daenerys enjoyed to see the confliction on the Stark girl’s face, her vision of her clearly being shaken off after her apologies. Jon looked to be more disconcerted than surprised and she couldn’t blame him, but it was what she felt was right. She’d treated him with hostility given his family’s name, when he could have done the same with her for her father’s crimes against his family. She was old enough to understand that Brandon and Rickard Stark had done what honor demanded and didn’t deserve to die for that.

“Now… is there anything I can do to help you?”

Jon glanced over to his sister, who gave him a look. He sighed and looked back at her, “We were in town because we needed Cersei’s help…” they knew it was a lost cause but they had to ask, and Sansa was confident that they could make a deal with the Lannister woman. He wanted his sister to talk with her, but Sansa refused to see her again and he couldn’t force her. “After our father died, Winterfell became a chaos and we’re just starting to rebuild it – we don’t have much security and the police won’t help… as usual.”

Daenerys nodded more to herself than to him. She was disgusted by how everyone, even the persons that were supposed to protect them, ignored the crimes that families committed against other families. It was something she hated about the Seven Kingdoms Company; if a family was involved into it, it had free pass to do whatever they wanted – kill, abuse, steal. That was the main reason she got herself the best security men to protect her and her children. That aspect of the Company was going to change when she took it back.

“A gang is rumored to take over Winterfell, they’re called the Free Folk; they’re from the North places that we’ve never been in. They’re criminals and too many, and we don’t have enough men to stop them from getting into our town.”

That surprised Dany. She was expecting him to ask for money since Cersei was capable of cutting them off of anything; food, technology, all kinds of merchandise since they had to pass first for the Seven Kingdoms Company – everything that every state of Westeros had was provided by the Company and in return, the things each state was specialized in had to be given to the Company so they could sell them in other countries too. It was a powerful business, one that many people were ready to murder for, since it didn’t took care just of the economy of the country but whoever was in charge of it had the permission of the Queen to run the country like they wanted, as long as it was under her rules, even though that wasn’t being respected. Daenerys wanted to believe the supreme Queen had no idea how the business ran in this country or else she would have intervened earlier.

But then she remembered that Winterfell – even though it wasn’t a state but a huge town part of the North – had claimed to be independent, meaning they wanted to trade themselves with other companies outside the country. They had enough money to do that, of course Jon wouldn’t ask for it.

“The Dothraki are the only ones that are as bad as them,” Arya continued for her brother.

If the Free Folk were as bad as the Dothraki used to be… Winterfell was in a big problem. She didn’t regret in burning down the temple with the great Khals in Vaes Dothraki exactly because of that; they were criminals beyond repair. They liked to rape and murder and slave people, getting away with it just because they were from a desolate and apart town in Russia that no one cared for.  Drogo’s gang was the only one that had limits and it was still the most respected one out of all gangs. She knew she had to end the great Khals if she wanted every Dothraki man to start fresh by listening to her in not being violent.

“So basically, you want her security to have your back?” Tyrion cleared it in case there was any misunderstanding.

Jon Snow swallowed and nodded, “Yes. We’ve heard they’re going to get into town in a week or so.”

 “All right. The Dothraki will help you defend your home,” she straightened her posture and rested her back on the chair. “There’s just one thing you need to know. The Dothraki work for me, and only me… they’ll refuse to work for any other person.”

Jon frowned confused. “But you said…”

“Yes. They will protect your town, because I’m going to be in Winterfell, too.”

He protected her son. She was going to protect his town. It was only fair.


	4. Chapter 4

Daenerys accompanied Jon towards the garden to get Ghost after his sister said goodbye and told him she’d be waiting for him in the car. The office wasn’t far from it, but there was an uncomfortable silence between them as they walked side by side towards it.

“I was about to call your sister, Sansa, last night,” Dany commented to break the tension. She didn’t mind to share that information with him; they had to improve in their… communication if they wanted to work together. “Since people said you don’t have a phone with you, I thought she’d have a way to contact you.”

Jon suppressed a laugh to imagine his sleepy sister getting a call at midnight from none else than Daenerys Targaryen. “She would have called Arya; she got a phone just a month ago. I had one but it’s broken and I didn’t care enough to get it fixed.”

“Don’t get along with technology?”

“Not really.”

There was another brief silence as they were arriving at the gardens’ doors.

“You made Rhaegal promise to not run away from home again,” she waited for him to look up at her. “Thank you.”

Rhaegal had told her all about it before he fell asleep next to her last night. She pushed open the gardens’ doors and saw out of the corner of her eye his lips curving to the side, but she made no tempt to look his way.

“I hope he keeps it.”

“Oh, he will. They learned what a promise was six months ago and took it very seriously.”

They watched as both Rhaegal and Viserion were running after Ghost with his arms spread out as if they were flying. Dragons, Jon imagined. His eyes moved past them to see the black-haired boy sitting alone on a bench, looking concentrated at the tablet on his lap.

He looked for Daenerys’ approval to let him in the gardens. She nodded and stepped aside to let him walk towards his wolf.

“Ghost.”

The white wolf ran towards him followed by the two little boys chasing after him. He bent down and rubbed his head, waiting for the kids to catch up with them.

“Hi, Jon!”

“Hey, buddy,” he put a hand on his head and messed with his already rebel bronze hair. “How are you doing?”

“Great. We were playing we were dragons chasing Ghost… but we would never hurt him,” he quickly added with his eyes a bit widened, truly scared at the thought. He forgot about it soon enough as he looked at his brother. “This is Viserion. Ghost likes him too.”

“Oh, I’m glad,” the little blonde boy was a bit shorter than Rhaegal and seemed to be shy as he played with his fingers. “It’s nice to meet you, Viserion. My name’s Jon… but you know that already, don’t you?”

The shyness seemed to fade away a bit as he nodded. “Is it true you saved Rhaegal from an evil man, Mr. Jon?”

Jon chuckled at the title but to see how serious the child looked to be, he opened his mouth to answer, “Ghost did a lot, too.”

Rhaegal rubbed off behind the wolf’s ears. “Does Ghost have brothers like I do, Jon? So we can meet them too and play with them!”

The man smiled at him, “Yes, he does. He had three brothers and two sisters… his sister and brother are waiting for him back home.”

A frown drew in between Rhaegal’s face. “What happened to his others brothers and sister?”

_Shit_. Jon didn’t think he’d ask about that. He never dealt with small children besides his siblings, but it hadn’t been up to him to talk about such things with them.

“I… they – I mean, they are… gone. In heaven.”

He held his breath hoping that was enough answer for them; he didn’t know what their mother had told them about death or if they even knew about it yet. He cursed himself inside, knowing he shouldn’t have said _heaven_ – they’d ask more about it. Maybe it was time to excuse himself and…

“Why didn’t he protect his brothers?” Jon looked past the boys to see the third Targaryen child staring at him in curiosity. Drogon, he believed the kid was called. He didn’t notice him listening to their conversation.

“Because he couldn’t; he wasn’t with them back then…” the stare the little boy’s orange eyes held intimidated him a bit. They looked like fire. “He was protecting me.”

Drogon’s frown disappeared as his attention shifted towards the white wolf, looking a bit thoughtful. Viserion put a hand on Ghost’s head and rubbed it gently. “Poor Ghost. We have a brother in heaven, too, Mr. Jon. Mama said he was born before us but couldn’t live so he went to heaven with our daddy.”

“Rhaego,” Rhaegal said with a proud smile. “Like me but with an O.”

Before Jon could answer something to it, he saw out of the corner of his eye as a shadow appeared next to them. He didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“I think Jon needs to get going,” Daenerys said in a voice hard enough that no one would dare to say otherwise. He stood up and looked at her with apologetic eyes, wanting her to know he wasn’t trying to pry – people had talked about Daenerys Targaryen’s husband dying, but no one ever said anything about a stillborn baby. “I’m sure you have quite the trip if you’re going in your car.”

Rhaegal’s green eyes grew wild to hear his mother, “You’re leaving?”

Jon felt bad for keeping it from him but knew that it wasn’t his place to tell him he’d be going to his hometown in less than a week. Instead, he gave him a nod as the boy’s bottom lip started to tremble a bit.

“But you don’t have to worry,” Jon was quick to say, not wanting the child to burst into tears. Dealing with crying women and children wasn’t something he was used to. “We’ll see each other again soon.”

“When is soon?”

“I will tell you later,” Daenerys replied though Rhaegal groaned, never knowing what ‘soon’ meant for grown-ups. “Now say goodbye to Jon and Ghost. His sister is waiting for him.”

Despite his protests, Rhaegal hugged both Ghost and Jon and had the same pout on his lips that the one he had when he found him with Euron. Viserion patted Ghost’s head and shook Jon’s hand; he smiled to have such tiny hand trying to wrap around his big one. He looked at Drogon but he didn’t seem to have interest in saying goodbye, just stared to his way with his little arms crossed over his chest, like he was actually waiting for him to leave.

It was funny how the three brothers were so much different from each other, and he didn’t even know them that much.

Jon turned towards Daenerys and cleared his throat, not being sure how to say goodbye to her, even though it wasn’t a real one. “Well… I’ll be sure to call you when I have everything ready at home.”

She appeared to be amused by it, “So you _are_ going to get a phone?”

He grinned, finding it weird he felt comfortable enough around this Dragon lady to joke with her when in the morning of the day before they were thinking the worst of each other.

“Maybe I am.”

Dany gave him a polite nod before moving away to let him walk away. She didn’t turn around to watch him leave, just heard the door opening and closing behind her. Viserion followed Drogon onto the bench and watched as he started using the tablet, even though the black-haired boy put it in the middle for both of them to see. Rhaegal sent them a glare before looking up at her, showing her his best puppy eyes and showed off the dimples that formed on his face.

“Can I play with them too?”

“You heard me this morning, Rhaegal,” the smile was quickly off of his lips as a pout replaced it. “I understand that you didn’t have any bad intentions but you cannot run away from home.”

“But I promised I wouldn’t do it again! Ever!”

“That’s very good to hear but you need to know there are consequences for breaking the rules. You’re grounded. No TV, no tablet, no technology until I say otherwise.”

The child groaned before walking back to the house, dragging his feet on the ground as he did so. Dany knew the punishment wouldn’t last long, for she was well aware of the bad situation her son had to go through with Euron. She was grateful that nothing had happened to him, but he had to understand that he couldn’t just run from her because he felt like it.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

She jumped a bit started, not realizing the presence of Tyrion next to her. Daenerys sighed and looked forward, seeing as Viserion took the tablet from his brother to play by himself.

“Are you?”

Daenerys didn’t ask Tyrion his opinion on the matter, for she’d declared it in front of the Stark siblings and he knew that was not the time to question her decision. She was going to go to Winterfell with her children and the Dothraki security, Tyrion would come back to Dragonstone, her hometown, with the Unsullied security and follow the news about the trial they held with Cersei from there till she came back, since he was her lawyer besides being her friend. They had moved to the town Rosby a month ago when the trial officially started, in case anything happened.

She’d heard Cersei was pissed about her getting closer to King’s Landing, the town where the Company was, but did nothing about it, which was something good to say the least.

“You’re finally getting out of the apartment you so hate,” Dany smiled, remembering all the times the little man complained about the huge, expensive apartment she’d gotten for him just in front of her mansion, thinking he’d want a private space. But he grew used to his home in Dragonstone after being six months there. “I trust you, Tyrion. I know everything will be just fine in your hands.”

“Thank you for your trust. I must say I didn’t see it coming... you apologizing to the Starks, I mean.”

“When I thought that Cersei could have my son, I didn’t even doubt about breaking in her home to take him back. That’s what the Starks tried to do for the girl of their family. But my father… he was too cruel.” Tyrion agreed with her with a nod. “And I don’t want them to think badly of me. You said it yourself; the Starks would be good allies to have on our side.”

They had already the Tyrells and the Martells and part of the Greyjoys to testify in the trial against the Lannisters. Who else than the Starks to join her for the crimes they had committed against them.

There was genuine surprise in Tyrion’s voice as he asked, “So it’s all a strategy?”

“No,” she was quick to answer because that wasn’t how it was. The Starks did deserve the apology from her family but… it was true she couldn’t let them think badly of her or else they’d never help her in the trial. “It’s what it’s right.”

**I**

Dany rested her back on the seat and closed her eyes, relaxing for a moment. It’d been two day since she last saw Jon Snow and a day since she’d received his call, letting her know everything was ready for their arrival. They were about to land at any time she guessed, it’d been two hours already; Irri and Doreah were sitting behind her but deep asleep since they hated to fly, Sir Jorah was somewhere forward with the ten of the Dothraki security as the other fifty were taking over the road, being led by Rakharo, the man she trusted the most when it was about the Dothraki.

Jon had told her that fifty men were more than fine but since she was taking her boys with her, she wanted to be sure. The Free Folk gang that was rumored to break in Winterfell couldn’t be more than forty– if they were that many, it looked like they really wanted to take over the town.

Daenerys looked to her left to see Rhaegal and Drogon looking out the window, even if all they could see were clouds. Rhaegal was sat right next to the window; they’d switched places with Drogon an hour ago, so he’d get a look of the outside. She looked to her right to see her friend Missandei and stretched her neck a bit to have sight of Viserion, who was sitting next to her watching an animated movie on the screen in front of him. That wasn’t what was originally planned; Viserion had to be sat where Missandei was, but since he was mad at her, she let him take the seat that was supposed to be her friend’s.

She’d asked each one of the kids if they were forgetting anything before leaving the house and they were all sure that they had everything. She’d usually remind them of the most important things for them such as stuffed animals or toys, but she forgot this time because they were in a hurry to get to the airport.

Turned out, Viserion did forget something and remembered about it when they were half-way to the airport. It was his stuffed white dragon, which he couldn’t sleep without. He begged to come back for it and Daenerys would have hadn’t they be late already. All she could do was to phone Tyrion before he left to ask him to pick up the stuffed animal and took it with him back to Dragonstone. That, however, wasn’t enough for the six year old kid. He’d yelled and cried until his eyes were bloodshot red, which broke her heart but there was nothing she could do.

When they got to the airport, twenty minutes before the flight, he refused to talk to her, reminding her of how alike he could be with Drogon with the little scowl taking over his face.

The original plan was for Drogon and Rhaegal to sit with her at first because they were the ones difficult to handle – she’d made the mistake on letting Drogon sit with Irri a bit away from her on the flight from Russia to Westeros, having to take him in the middle of the night to the sat next to her for all the times he’d take his belt off or kneel on the seat or walk to the bathroom every five minutes because he wanted to explore the plane. As for Rhaegal and after everything that happened with him lately, she didn’t want him out of her sight for now. Viserion was a little angel compared to his brothers so he didn’t mind in sitting with Missandei, but they’d agreed he could switch seats with any of his brothers if he needed her near.

Two hours had passed and Viserion had showed no interest in her, even though that when they were flying to Westeros and Drogon had taken Viserion’s seat at her side for the way he was behaving, the little blonde boy couldn’t stand being away from her even if it’d been just an hour back then so he changed seats with Rhaegal.

Dany felt horrible for not coming back for the stuffed dragon that her son slept with. He’d lost it once back in the Dragonstone mansion and cried as much as he did hours ago, ending up on her bed that night as her comfort was the only thing that could make him sleep without it. He’d been happy as never when he found it in the gardens the next day. Vhagar, he named it.

And she hated, _truly_ hated, that Viserion was mad at her. It hurt her when any of her kids wouldn’t speak to her after an argument, but Drogon and Rhaegal were more likely to snap at her than Viserion. He’d never been angry at her, not like this.

Daenerys took off the seat belt and got up, quickly walking over to the empty seat to Viserion’s right; Missandei frowned at her in confusion but didn’t say anything as she moved her attention to her other sons, not even noticing her absence as they kept staring out the window.

He looked already annoyed as his brows drew together when she moved the headphones away from his ears. “What are you watching, sweetheart?” She asked even though she knew it was Peter Pan, one of his favorite movies. Unlike his brothers that would never look at her when they were angry with her, Viserion shifted his golden eyes from the screen to her, but just stared, didn’t reply. Dany sighed. “When we get to Winterfell, I’m going to buy you a new dragon so you can –”

That seemed to upset him only more. “I don’t want a new dragon. I want Vhagar!”

“Tyrion promised to take care of it till our return. And if you can’t sleep, you can always wake me up to –”

“No. I don’t want to sleep with you,” his scowl grew deeper as he stared back to the screen. “And I don’t want to talk to you.”

He put the headphones on and focused on the movie as Dany looked up defeated to her friend across her. Missandei shrugged and gave her a half-smile, “Give him time. You know he won’t be mad for long.”

Daenerys got up and walked back to her seat and shook her head as she put the seat belt back on. First Rhaegal getting mad at her about Jon Snow, now Viserion… it was a miracle she hadn’t done something to upset Drogon, too.

“We’re going to arrive soon, aren’t we?”

She glanced over to Missy for a moment before nodding and watched as Rhaegal pointed out the window and Drogon leant in to see. The boy had jumped from joy when she told them that they’d be going to Winterfell because she had to help Jon Snow in a matter.

“So I’m finally meeting this Jon Snow that Rhaegal won’t stop talking about,” Missy joked.

“You’re not missing out on much. I just don’t understand why he’s grown so… close to him. He’s not even like that with Jorah and he’s known him his whole life.”

The black-haired woman shrugged, “It is strange. He didn’t like Daario, either.”

“What has Daario to do anything with Jon Snow?” Her confusion grew as her friends’ words hit her. “What do you mean he didn’t like Daario? Rhaegal never met Daario.”

Daario had been a man she’d slept with… in several occasions back in Russia, but it didn’t go further than that. She’d never, ever, presented him to her children, even though he wanted to make it official and meet them, she knew she didn’t love him. She liked him, but didn’t see a future with him or even imagined how her kids could react to him. It wasn’t going to happen.

Missy had that look on her face that she always had when she screwed something up. “I… well… they may have overheard someone saying he could be your boyfriend and… they may have met him when he went looking for you at your house.”

Daenerys’ purple eyes grew bigger at her information. After a moment, she gritted her teeth. “Who did they overheard saying he could have been my boyfriend?”

“I don’t know,” by the way Missy quickly said it, Dany knew she was lying. It wasn’t her style to gossip about her matters but she did have other two friends that loved to talk about her love life, she never minded but always told them to be careful around the children. Irri and Doreah – and they loved Daario and constantly told her what a good couple they’d make. “Drogon asked me what a boyfriend was so I told him but I didn’t know it was because of that. I found out later when he asked it directly to Daario.”

Her mouth dropped open slightly. “He did what?!”

Missy let out a big sigh, knowing she had to tell it all. “Two days before you kind of broke up with him, he came to your house to look for you. You were out with Tyrion doing something I don’t remember now but… he showed up there and they were playing near, and I think that when they heard that I said Daario, something clicked.”

Daenerys was listening to her carefully but also had her mind going back to that time and it all made sense now her friend was telling this. The kids – Drogon, in particular – were touchier with her, wanting to be around her all the time, insistent in wanting to know where she was going when she had to leave the house.

“They came all the way running to the door, asked him if he was their mama’s boyfriend… you should have seen Daario’s face,” Missy laughed a bit but to see her face, her lips fell quickly. “He said no, obviously, so Rhaegal told him you didn’t need any boyfriend because you had them and Drogon said that if he didn’t leave you alone, he’d send the Dothraki after him.”

“What?!”

“It was pretty cute and funny. Even Viserion seemed to be angry; he told him you were theirs and that you didn’t want anyone else.”

“Why didn’t you never tell me any of this?!”

“It was around the time they learnt what a promise was so they made me promise that I couldn’t tell you – and they promised to each other to never say anything to you, so I figured you wouldn’t know.”

Daenerys couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You never told me my children met…” she glanced over her shoulder to see Drogon and Rhaegal weren’t even paying any attention to her and leant in closer to the corridor. “The man I was sleeping with because they told you not to?! They were five years old, Missandei.”

Missy pretended to be offended. “If I told you, you’d want to speak with them and they’d know I told you. I didn’t want to betray them; they can be pretty scary when they want. They’re your kids, remember?” _Unbelievable_ , Dany thought as she shook her head and moved away. “It’s not that big deal, Dany. They forgot about him very fast.”

She truly wished they did, but given that they’d never told her such thing, they’d probably forgotten about him. She rested her back on the seat and looked confused at her friend.

“Why did you even bring Daario into this?”

“I don’t know… they don’t tend to like much the men in your life.”

“Jon Snow is not a man in my life.”

“We’re going to his hometown to protect it…”

Dany leant in closer again to whisper between gritted teeth. “Because he protected Rhaegal from that monster.”

“Yeah. He has that point on his favor.”

“What on earth are you talking about? I’m just trying to repay what he did for my son. Protecting his home is the least thing I can do since I owe him my child’s safety.”

“Alright, alright,” Missy put her hands up, shrugging it off. “It was just a thought. You don’t need to get nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” Dany quickly said as she straightened her posture on the seat. “I don’t want to you to imagine things that aren’t there.”

“If you say so.”

Daenerys opened her mouth to respond but Missandei closed her eyes, acting like she was trying to sleep. The silver-blonde woman rolled her eyes and sighed, not knowing where that came from. It was stupid to think there could be something between her and Jon Snow – she was just doing the right thing to do by helping him after what he did for Rhaegal. There was nothing more there.

“Mama, look!” Rhaegal squalled happily almost jumping from his seat and pointing towards the window. “I think we’re here! We’re in Winterfell!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! As always, I'm happy to see your response at this story so thank you for every kudos and comment, they make my day. Hopefully you'll like this chapter too.
> 
> For everyone wanting more of Jon with the other kids - that's something I absolutely plan in doing (who doesn't want an adorable (step?) daddy Jon), as more scenes of Jon with their mother, of course.
> 
> Winterfell is coming and so are the Starks! Please let me know what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi to everyone!
> 
> Winterfell is here, so I'd like to point out the Stark siblings ages: Sansa (19), Arya (17), Bran (16), Rickon (11) - yes Rickon is alive here because I don't see the point in his death. What happened to them and Jon and their parents will be explained soon, don't worry.
> 
> Thank you for all your comments, kudos, they make me so happy! I love any suggestion you might have for the story so just tell me if you want.
> 
> Will I ever write short chapters? We shall see... but not today, lol. Hope you enjoy the chapter and please let me know what you think!

“Jon, are you okay?” Jon looked up to his friend, Sam, and quickly saved his phone in the pocket of his black jacket. “You’ve checked the phone three times already in the past five minutes.”

“It’s nothing.”

He knew Daenerys was coming on the airplane with ten of the Dothraki security men, but he still felt responsible for her security and her children’s. Many people in Winterfell hadn’t been pleased to find out that Targaryens were coming to their home, though they had to accept it nonetheless. No one would dare to do anything against her but it wasn’t either a comfortable place for her to be in.

“Is that her?”

Jon followed his friend’s gaze and saw her. There was no mistaking her; not just for the ten big men in black leather jackets around her, but for the long silver-blonde hair and huge purple eyes. Many people inside the airport would turn around to stare, he didn’t know if it was because all the fuss over the security or for the beauty she carried with pride.

It looked like she knew what she was getting herself into as she wore much winter clothes than he’d seen her into. It hadn’t been snowing back in King Landing’s and it wasn’t _that_ cold back there, not like here. Daenerys looked royal covered with her white coat that contrasted against her black jeans and black boots.

Sam nodded his head towards her, “She’s… pretty.”

Now that he didn’t feel the entitlement coming off of her anymore, he could see right through her beauty. She could have just thanked him for saving Rhaegal; instead she was risking her safety – and her sons’ – to help him protect his home. She’d even apologized to him, something that caught him off guard. He wasn’t expecting that and it helped him see that she had, indeed, a good heart.

“Yes, she is,” he found himself replying to his friend.

Jon shook his head slightly, knowing he couldn’t think about that. There was no time for that – and Daenerys was here just to help out of the obligation she felt for what he did.

He smiled lightly to see the three kids around her. Rhaegal and Drogon were holding each of their mother’s hands as Viserion held on to one of Daenerys’ friends, he guessed. The three of them were wearing blue jackets and grey beanies covering their heads, prepared for the cold weather outside.

“Welcome to Winterfell,” he said as a greeting when she was close enough to him, along with a lopsided grin.

Daenerys arched an eyebrow and was about to reply, hadn’t Rhaegal jumped next to her, waving at the man in front of them. “Hi, Jon! Is this your home?”

“This is my hometown. You’ll soon meet my home…” he gestured towards the nervous friend standing by his side. “This is Sam, my best friend. He’s here to take your… friends home,” he told to the boy’s mother this time.

Daenerys shook hands with Sam and moved her eyes towards Jon, “And who’s taking us?”

**I**

Jon looked at the mirrors to see Sam’s car and taxis behind him. He gazed over to Daenerys next to him for a moment; she was looking out the window in silence. He looked at the rear-view mirror to check on the ever silent three kids sitting behind. He didn’t see much of Rhaegal and Drogon as both were sitting next to the windows, but he got a glimpse of Viserion. The boy looked bored, but sadder than anything.

“There’s so much snow here!” Rhaegal commented with his nose glued to the window.

“Like in Russia,” Drogon replied in an annoyed tone.

The bronze-haired boy rolled his eyes and kept staring out the window, “Is Ghost in your home, Jon?”

“Yes. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you…” he looked through the rear-view mirror to see Viserion slowly looking up at that. “And you too, Viserion.” He moved his grey eyes back to the road but noticed the way Daenerys shifted her attention towards him.

“Viserion’s sad because his dragon couldn’t come. He forgot it in our home and –”

“Don’t tell him why Viserion is sad!” Drogon protested. It was clear the boy was pissed about being here and that he didn’t like him. Nonetheless, he smiled to himself to see Daenerys rolling her eyes and letting out a small sigh, like she knew something was about to start. “He’s not our friend!”

“He is my friend!”

“But not mine or Viserion’s so shut up!”

“I won’t shut up because – ouch, don’t punch me! Mama he punched me!”

“I did not!”

Jon saw just in time as pairs of arms started trying to get at each other as the little blonde boy was in the middle of it, but with silent tears streaming down his chubby and pink cheeks.   _Shit._ He hated to see kids crying.

“Boys, stop it right now!” Daenerys turned around a bit; the glare she sent to their way was enough for both boys to stop moving and fall silent, still looking angrily at each other. “Oh Viserion, sweetheart, don’t cry, you’ll see Vhagar again soon.”

He looked through the mirror to see Daenerys putting a hand on her son’s leg, but Viserion’s teary, golden eyes looked up at her with anger filling them. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

There was an awkward silence as Dany let out a sigh and moved her hand away, sitting back on her seat. Long minutes passed, and he wasn’t sure if it was his place to say it, but the pout on the six year old’s lips as he wiped away the tears from his face was enough.

“I know of a woman that makes… stuffed animals, Viserion. You can tell her what you want and she’ll make you one. So you’ll have one here and you can tell it all about your… dragon back home and when you get him back, your dragon will have a new friend. So they’ll tell each other what they missed out.”

Another silence settled in. Daenerys looked at him with curious and surprised eyes, but he tried his best to avoid them, starting to feel stupid for even saying something about it.

“When I get _her_ back,” the blonde boy said after a minute, breaking the silence. “Vhagar is a girl. But yes… I think she’d like a new friend, too.”

There were no more tears and even a hopeful expression on Viserion’s face. Jon was glad his idea was a bit successful and noticed the way the woman next to him moved her head towards him and smiled weakly.

“Thank you,” she whispered low enough just for them to hear.

The curve of his lips moved up a bit as he nodded, keeping his gaze forward. “You’re welcome.”

**II**

Daenerys gifted a smile of gratitude to Jon Snow when she saw Viserion running towards her to take her hand as soon as they left the car. His words seemed to cease her boy’s sadness if only a bit, not talking about the replacement of the toy, but a new companion for it. That hadn’t occurred to her.

As Drogon took his free hand, she looked up towards the Stark residence, seeing it was indeed a huge mansion; not as big as hers, but it excelled from the other houses they’d passed in town.

Her purples eyes moved around to search for her third child as Jon took out her big suitcase along with boys’ bags from the car trunk. She found Rhaegal ready to entry the Stark home as he stood in front of the iron fence covered by snow. But as she looked up, she saw two women across the street whispering something to each other as they had a stare of disapproval shifting from her to the kids holding her hands.

Something burned inside her, for she didn’t care whatever thing they were gossiping about her, but she did not like people talking about her children.

“Is everything okay?” Daenerys blinked as she looked at the man blocking her vision from the women a few meters from her. She frowned slightly, recognizing nervousness on his face as he pursed his lips and his brows drew in together. Jon had noticed the whispers, too.

“Yes.”

He cleared his throat a bit; trying his best to not feel uncomfortable by her burning stare, though it wasn’t his fault. She waited for him to take the front as she walked behind him.

The Stark siblings were waiting for them outside the front door. Sansa, Arya, Brandon and Rickon, Jon had introduced them. The rumors about Sansa Stark being beautiful and lady-like weren’t false, but Dany knew she was just being polite as she welcomed her to Winterfell. Arya didn’t say anything else than a ‘ _hey’_ , though she didn’t carry the same coldness from days ago when her grey eyes landed on her.

Brandon Stark’s face didn’t say much of what he thought of her, yet there was a small frown wrinkling his pale forehead as he said a quick ‘ _hello’_. Rickon Stark was the only one that received her with a cheeky and huge smile on his face, calling her a lady and all. It made her chuckle just briefly to see such charm on an eleven year old.

Rhaegal had been delighted to find Ghost inside the house. Dany was a bit frightened by the other two wolves running up towards them only to be stopped by Arya and Rickon’s voices. Nymeria and Shaggydog, they called them. The grey and black wolves sniffed around Viserion and Drogon; her youngest boy did his best to try to not hide his face as he held on to her legs, a bit scared by the black wolf looking like he was trying to find something in his hair. Drogon, on the other hand, reached out to touch Nymeria’s head, too amused by the animal.

Arya was soon walking away pushing Bran’s wheelchair to some room of a long hallway that Dany didn’t dare to look much into, her grey wolf right behind her. Sansa gestured her to walk along with her into what she supposed was the living, so she followed her after seeing her children were captured by Rickon showing them how Shaggydog did everything he ordered.

Sansa started talking about an expensive old vase but all could Daenerys notice was that Jon wasn’t anywhere to be seen. It made her a bit nervous, given he was the only person she knew in the house – not even her security was around her, for they were probably adjusting themselves to the new apartments Jon had gotten them.

A picture in front of her caught her attention. It was the whole Stark family; there was Jon at the very right, a huge smile on face that she’d never seen, one that reached his eyes, as he had a happily young Arya spread in his arms, sticking out her tongue. There was a red-headed boy as tall as Jon next to him, with his arm around his shoulder; Robb Stark, she supposed. Their parents were in the middle with soft expressions, Sansa stood next to her mother with a bright smile on her face. A much younger Brandon stood on his both feet, his eyes shining as he made the peace sign with one hand and held little Rickon’s with the free one.

The photo radiated happiness. They looked to be a real, loving family. Dany had never one of those, not until she found her babies.

“Why are you here?” Sansa’s abrupt question brought her back to reality; her eyes moving in confusion towards the girl that had her blue eyes piercing into hers, all the kindness she’d showed just minutes ago gone. “I know Jon thinks you’re doing this for gratitude… but there has to be more.”

“Is there? Your sister said the Free Folk are bad as the Dothraki, so I imagine how bad they can be. I’m just returning the help.”

She changed the tone of her voice on purpose, wanting to make it clear she wasn’t going to be walked over. Sansa seemed to get the hint as she blinked once and titled her head, “I do appreciate what you’re doing for Winterfell. But I want to know why.”

Daenerys was grateful to see a shadow appearing at their side. It was Jon, though her suitcase seemed to disappear from his hands. He must have sensed the tension for a frown drew in his face as he looked curiously at his sister for a moment before focusing back on her.

“The cabin’s ready.”

**III**

Jon had insisted over the phone that they could stay at their house, but that was a lot for Daenerys. She could admit that she trusted Jon, she wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t, but didn’t know him enough or all his siblings for that matter, to stay at his place with her kids. It was just going to be strange.

So he offered the cabin that was still in the Stark territory, far behind in the backyard. Daenerys looked around once she was inside, the boys were already running everywhere opening every door of the place, which was… very nice. It wasn’t very big but it looked really comfortable – she’d slept in very poorly places before. Even if she’d grown used to huge mansions and luxury, she loved places like this. Small and comfy.

The cabin was all made of wood. The warm of the fire burning in the chimney filled the room. The kitchen and a large table was the first thing to see, followed by a living room big enough for a large black coach and two small grey coaches at each side and a small table in front of the chimney. There were four rooms, Jon had told her, and two bathrooms.

“My father had it ended right before…” his voice trailed off as Dany looked at him; the sorrow flooded his grey eyes. “But if you don’t like it, there’s always our home, like I said before.”

“I think it’s really beautiful. We’re going to be just fine here.”

Yelling from one of the rooms echoed through the place. Dany sighed and followed the sound, hearing Jon’s footsteps right behind her. There was a room that was the start or the end of the hallway, she couldn’t be sure. She entered the room and found Rhaegal and Drogon pushing each other in front of the bunk bed, apparently trying to climb the ladder to the bed above.

“What is going on here?”

Rhaegal took his brother’s shirt and pulled him down before he could walk over the first step of the ladder. “Drogon says he wants to sleep there but I saw it first!”

The black-haired boy frowned and shook his head. “But I said I wanted it first!”

“I saw it first!”

“Who says?!”

Daenerys held up a hand which made the two boys fall silent as quickly. She looked over to the place to see Viserion had already put his backpack on the single bed next to the window as he was on his knees in front of a small bookshelf, his hand reaching out to it but hesitating about what book take first.

“Viserion will sleep in the bed above.”

“What?!”

Jon chuckled in silence at the baffled expressions on the two boys, their eyes growing wild as their mouths dropped open. The other boy looked towards them, titling his head in confusion.

“But he doesn’t even want it!” Rhaegal kicked his foot on the ground, matching the scowl already formed in his older brother’s face.

“It’s not fair!”

“Yes it is,” Daenerys said in a calm voice. Jon imagined she was used to the brothers always arguing with one another, but he couldn’t imagine her doing this every day since she was a teenager, for he knew the Targaryen woman couldn’t be older than him yet she had been raising three boys for the past six years. “I told you I wanted you both to stop fighting over everything. If you don’t learn to share, this is what will happen. And I don’t want any of you mistreating your brother for something I chose. Understood?”

The little boys nodded their heads, staring at the floor. “Yes, mama.”

“Good.”

Daenerys turned towards him to step out the room and wait for him outside of it. He was about to close the door when a bunch of blonde hair appeared on sight, his little hand trying to hold back the wooden door.

“Mr. Jon,” Viserion called in a whisper. “Are we going to go to the woman that makes stuffed animals soon?”

“Yes, if your mother agrees of course,” he gave the boy a smile and dared to rub his hair a bit. “And you can call me Jon.”

“Thank you, Mr. Jon,” he blinked. “Jon.”

Jon closed the door and turned around, he buried his hands into the pockets of his jeans and walked past Daenerys, gesturing her to come along. She followed him in silence until they reached the door of the room in the end of the hallway and he took the doorknob.

“You’re good with kids,” her voice seemed to be casual, even though Jon noticed the way her eyes searched for his gaze, so he didn’t open the door and focused on her instead.

“Well, I’ve had my training with my siblings…” with Arya, Bran and Rickon, mostly. He realized he was good with boys – and Arya, but Arya was a different story – since he could never get close with Sansa, not since months ago, anyway. “You kind of have to manage when you have four younger brothers and sisters.” He remembered the days when the house would be a mess with six children running everywhere and arguing, their father trying to control them without success. “But I’m pretty sure one of your children doesn’t like me.”

Dany chuckled slightly with a shake of head. “Don’t take it personal, Drogon likes only a few people,” she shrugged and smiled to herself as a funny thought crossed her mind, and before she could realize, she was saying it out loud. “If he liked you right away, you’d be the chosen one.” The smile died as soon as she finished the sentence and noticed what that could mean. She wasn’t used to the feeling of the heat flaming her cheeks or the stuttering coming out from her mouth as she looked away. “I – I mean… you’d be lucky to consider yourself special if he liked you at first sight.”

She kept her gaze forward to the door, wishing for this to be over and for him to go away, not wanting to meet his probably amusing face for what she’d said. Jon put the hand back on the doorknob as she got a glimpse of him shrugging before opening the door.

“I bet he’s a really good kid, though.”

“Yes he is,” Daenerys was quick to answer.

 “This is it.”

There was a double size bed in the middle, two nightstands at each side, a large wardrobe, a small desk with a chair right next to the window and a door across the desk that headed towards the private bathroom.

Daenerys walked around it, looking at every corner but him. Jon’s lips curved up, not knowing he was going to presence an awkward and ashamed Daenerys Targaryen – there was nothing for her to be embarrassed of, but he had to admit his mind went there when she talked about the chosen one. He would have joked about ‘chosen one for what’ but regretted it as soon as the pale of her cheeks became slightly red and she avoided his eyes. He wanted to reassure her that it was okay, but knew that could crash more into her pride, so he let it go.

But it was good to see this side of her. Sansa had burned his head with ideas that he had to watch out, because _there had to be_ a reason for Daenerys Targaryen to do this for them. His sister bought all the rumors people had told her; how the Dragon woman was not to be trusted for she was far too manipulative, only caring about power and willing to destroy those that stood in her way. He had to disagree; he’d seen her with her children, saw the way her purple eyes would twinkle in a way that they wouldn’t do for anyone but them, he witnessed the desperate way she clung to Rhaegal when he was safe in her arms.

He recognized in her something he had seen in himself. The weight of carrying their family and what that meant, on their shoulders, in their own ways. Daenerys had her children to protect as she was after the Seven Kingdoms Company, something that had been her family’s and it was up to her to take back or would be lost from her hands forever. Jon had to take care of his siblings and try to do what was best for Winterfell as people relied on his family’s name.

“This is a beautiful place, Jon Snow. Thank you.”

“You can call me Jon, you know,” she snapped her head towards him, like he’d said something brutal. “You’re staying in my house’s territory. I think it’s safe to say you can call me just by my name.”

Jon saw her eyes narrowing and felt as if she was trying to search for something in his grey gaze. The red on her cheeks were gone, but he still read the discomfort on her face.

“If you want, that is.”

“Alright,” she nodded and walked over to the window of the room, looking out and showing her side-profile to him. “I’ll call you Jon, then.”

“Good. There’s a phone in the living room that connects to my house’s phone; if you need anything you just dial the number 1 and we’ll answer. I’ll let you look around and… I’ll come back in a while so we can go to Miss Klaine’s toy shop?”

 “Yes, that would be great.”

Jon frowned to feel her voice a bit monotonous and cold from all sudden. He sighed, thinking maybe he’d gone too far by telling her his name was just fine – they weren’t friends, but he thought… “Okay.”

He stepped outside the room and was about to close the door behind him hadn’t her voice stopped him. “Jon,” he turned around, expecting to see a severe expression, and instead finding a new softness as the curve of her lips turned up. “You might call me Daenerys.”

**IV**

“Is she trying to flirt with you? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Rickon’s eyebrows shot up. “Flirting? So she’s going to be your new girlfriend, Jon?”

Jon glared at his little sister before shaking his head towards his young brother. “No, Rickon, she’s not my new girlfriend.”

“Yet,” the eleven year old raised a finger, a smirk spreading on his face. “She looks fine. Why don’t you ask her to be your girlfriend?”

“Because not everything is about being pretty or not, Rickon,” Arya snapped at him with a roll of eyes. “If she’s trying to flirt with you to get something out of it…”

“She is not,” Jon declared in a firm voice, having enough of his sister’s accusations. He had come to the kitchen just as Arya and their younger brothers were finishing their homework all over the table, which surprised him since they hated school ever since they went back to it after years of missing it. It had been his sister the one that asked all about how Daenerys was doing; he found it strange but answered nonetheless. “Sansa has been talking to you, hasn’t she?”

Arya scoffed, “She doesn’t need to. She is a woman, you are a man. You’re both young. And I see the way you look at her.”

His eyebrows pulled down together, giving a quick glance over to his brothers. Bran was focused in writing on the paper as Rickon seemed to be paying attention to their conversation. He swallowed and felt stupid for recognizing the way his neck warmed up.

“I don’t look at her in any way,” the young girl gave him a look, arching an eyebrow to his way. “I don’t, Arya. She is a beautiful woman, everyone knows that. But there’s nothing more.”

“Does she know why she’s here?”

He was a bit confused by that. “Of course she does. She’s here because –”

“That’s not what I meant. Does she know the reason the Free Folk want to take over Winterfell?”

His shoulders tensed as he rested his hands on the kitchen counter behind him, his frown deepening as he looked away. “No. Why would she need to know that?”

He felt Arya’s stare burning him, till he looked up and she shrugged, her fingers playing with the pen between them. “You’re right. She doesn’t need to know that. I’m not Sansa, Jon. I don’t think she’s here just for some purpose of hers, but… she’s a Targaryen, she can’t be easily trusted, either.”

He had enough of Sansa’s sermons about remembering she was a Targaryen, like somehow that would define every thought, every decision Daenerys made. He trusted her – he had to, otherwise he wouldn’t let her near his siblings or his home. He knew little of her, but in that little he saw, he thought it was safe to say Daenerys wasn’t a threat to his family.

“Why her being a Targaryen is so bad? I’m missing something here,” Rickon was utterly confused.

“We’ll tell you someday,” Jon replied to him. “Did you call Uncle Benjen to tell him she was already here?”

“Arya was supposed to.”

The girl shrugged. “Well you go call him.”

“Why me?!” Rickon groaned and got up, throwing his pencil between his books. “Okay, but you owe me one.”

The young boy dragged his feet all his way out of the kitchen. Only then Jon sat in his chair and looked up at his sister. “I appreciate your concern, Arya, but I had enough with Sansa’s speech about not trusting someone too fast. I know how to take care of myself. And I honestly don’t think it’s okay to declare her as bad person just because she’s a Targaryen. She could do the same with us.” He didn’t know if his sisters had become too suspicious of people after everything that happened to them, or he was the one trusting in people too easily.

“We did nothing to her family. Her father and brother…”

“She apologized for what her father did,” he ignored the latter part, not wanting to get into an argument about his thoughts on it. “And she didn’t have to because she didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yes but…” her eyes shifted for a moment to Bran and frowned. “What do you think of her, Bran?”

Bran looked up at them, a frown drawing slightly. That was something new; their brother hadn’t showed many expressions since they’d been reunited.

“I don’t know,” there was a bit of annoyance in his words. “I can’t see anything of her.”

Arya looked over to Jon, matching his surprise. They’d come to the conclusion that he may have made up his mind in thinking he was the Three-Eyed Raven, someone that could see through time, to prevent the pain from a trauma in breaking in and wanting to believe in something else. They had to admit he did know things that they weren’t sure how he could have found out, but these days… anyone could know anything. Jon had offered to take him to a psychiatrist but his sisters refused, arguing that they’d take him away into a mental institution and they had enough of separation in their family.

So they let him be. But they weren’t used to Bran saying he couldn’t see or know something about someone; it only happened once before, with Jon. He’d claimed he couldn’t see anything of him.

Despite not knowing if what their brother said was true about seeing through time, they listened to him because he was truly wise and he didn’t speak just for the fun of it. So if he said he didn’t know anything about Daenerys, Jon didn’t know what to make of it; was it something good or bad?


	6. Chapter 6

Winter wasn’t her favorite season but she always loved the way snow managed to cover every corner of the streets and shops. It was a beautiful sight; it reminded her of all the times she’d sneak out from whatever home she was in with Viserys to make snowmen – to make the family she’d always dreamed of having. The parents she’d never met, the father that as a young child she could still imagine as a hero, the mother she pictured as the bravest woman to give her own life for her. The gentle brother she would never know, the brother that scared her but she was grateful for because she’d be nothing without him. And herself, the princess she would never be.

Her six year old self would spend hours sitting in the snow, staring at her own making until Viserys would come and crash the figures, yelling at her to stop dreaming about them because she didn’t deserve them – because she killed their mother, because had she been born earlier, Rhaegar could have stayed and their father wouldn’t have gone mad. She had to remember that he was going to be the only family she’d ever have and that she should be grateful for that, because she deserved nothing after everything she’d done.

“You like the snow?”

Dany looked next to her as Jon appeared in sight. She thought he was still talking to the woman behind the shop counter, Miss Klaine. She’d stayed near the door, watching the snow fall outside. Her eyes glanced over her shoulder to see the old woman resting her elbows on the counter as she listened carefully to the three boys in front of it.

“Yes,” she looked forward again. “I was just remembering when I used to play hours in the snow back when I was child.”

Jon nodded in agreement. “My brother and I used to play on it all the time… our father had to drag us inside the house.”

“My brother, Viserys, hated the cold so he’d drag me inside as soon as he saw me there,” she watched as Jon looked behind for a moment. She followed his gaze to find it was placed on Viserion, who was drawing on a white paper placed on the counter, sitting in a high chair behind it. “Yes, I named him after Viserys,” Jon looked back at her with apologetic eyes; as if he was ashamed she recognized his stare. “He wasn’t the nicest person but… he was my brother. The only one I had. Viserion is everything Viserys wasn’t… the sweetest kid I’ve ever met. I always knew he would be what my brother could never be,” the ghost of a smile curved her lips but it quickly faded as she realized she was opening up too much. But as she looked at the man next to her, she saw his attentive and understanding eyes, stopping the shame from talking too much about her personal matters in growing. “I heard you… lost a brother, too.”

“Aye,” he seemed to swallow hard before clearing his throat. “I was very close to Robb… we were just months apart. He was my best friend.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, knowing the tragic death of the oldest of the Stark children. The Lannisters made sure to spread rumors about Ned Stark’s son and wife being murdered by common thieves, though everyone inside the Seven Kingdom Company knew that the crime was on them. “I’m sure losing him was difficult.”

“It was,” not that he had the time to mourn his brother as the only thing he’d had in mind after finding out Robb and Catelyn’s deaths was finding his younger sisters and brothers. It was like Robb knew what was coming for him, for he’d called Jon the night before his death, telling him that if anything happened to him, he shouldn’t fight back but take care of what was rest of their family – it was what Father would have wanted. “But my priority after his death was finding my brothers and sisters. There wasn’t much time to process,” he had Sansa’s voice in the back of his head telling him they couldn’t trust her, but she’d just shared something personal with him, he felt as he could do the same.

“Your sister, Sansa, I don’t think she likes me much, does she?”  Daenerys tried to change the talk as much as possible, knowing it wasn’t the place to talk further about the loss of his family. “I understand where that comes from, though.”

“Don’t take it personal,” he repeated the words she’d said to him not long than hour ago, gaining a grin from her. “Sansa just wants to look out for our family. She used to trust in people too much and… that was used against her. I tried talking her out of it but…”

She arched an eyebrow, actually surprised by that. “You did?”

Jon gave her a nod and shrugged. “Was I wrong to do it?”

“No, of course not,” she smiled softly to imagine him defending her against whatever his sister tried to convince him into. “I’m well aware of the things your family has been through. I can assure you I’m not here to do any more damage.”

“I know.”

Daenerys gave him a genuine smile, one that Jon matched. Both of them jumped to hear their names being called out behind them.

“Mama, watch me!”

“Jon, look, look!”

They both turned around to find Drogon inside a small electric red car and Rhaegal in another green one, right behind him, as they attempted to not crash with the shelves while driving them all around the place.

Jon chuckled as Daenerys opened her mouth in horror, “Drogon, Rhaegal, get out of there right now!”

She quickly stormed off towards them as he stood next to the door, watching as Daenerys apologized over and over again to Miss Klaine for the mess her sons were making, meanwhile the boys were too excited to even get out of the small cars even if they stopped driving them by their mother’s command.

It had taken them only a minute when no one was watching them for them to make a scene in the toy shop. That was what took him and Robb to get in trouble, too.

“I asked Miss Klaine for it, Jon,” a small voice said next to him. He looked down to see Viserion smiling slightly at him. “I drew it and all!”

“That’s great! What did you ask for?”

The boy was thoughtful for a moment before shaking his head, “It’s a secret…” his golden eyes wouldn’t stop staring at him, though he didn’t say anything. Jon frowned a bit confused, but noticed he was holding something in his hands that he kept hiding behind his back. “I have something for you, because you were very nice and mama says that we have to thank people that are nice to us.”

Before Jon could tell him that he didn’t have to give him anything, Viserion handed him a small paper. He couldn’t help the tugging in his lips to see a big, “ _Thank you Jon, you – ~~were~~ – are very nice_ ” in his adorable and awkward handwriting, accompanied with a stick figure that seemed to have a bun in its head and a dog next to it, signed by _Viserion_.

“Miss Klaine helped me write it, I drew you and Ghost, too! Do you like it?”

The only one that had ever made him a drawing as a young kid was Arya and she didn’t like drawing much so it couldn’t be more than two, but he treasured them with his life. He would save this one right next to hers. He thought that Daenerys was claiming Viserion to be the sweetest kid she’d ever met because she was his mother, but now he could see the truth in her words.

“I love it. I will save it with the ones my sister used to give me, too. Thank you, Viserion.”

**I**

“This is Benjen Stark, our uncle. Uncle Benjen, this is Daenerys Targaryen.”

Dany stepped forward and gave the older man a polite nod, though she felt uncomfortable to see the way he was staring at her, like he was in front of a ghost with his eyes growing wild and the frown drawing in his face. Jon had told her right before they entered his house that his uncle Benjen was waiting for them inside to meet her; she couldn’t know what he told him of her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, milady… Jon, will you give us a minute?”

Jon was a bit confused as he looked back and forth between them but obeyed his uncle and walked away, after the kitchen where her children and Rickon had ran off as soon as they put their feet on the house.

“I apologize for the staring, Daenerys,” she wasn’t used to people that she didn’t trust calling her by her name, but there was something soft about the way he said it that she didn’t mind. “But the resemblance is there. You reminded me of him – of Rhaegar.”

That made Dany’s eyebrows shoot up, a surprised smile curving her lips. “You knew him?”

“I was young, but I was in the party where he crowned my sister the queen of love and beauty,” her smile slowly faded at that. “You don’t have to worry, dear; I don’t blame you for anything that happened. My sister made her choice… no one could ever force her to do anything.”

She was taken back by that, “So you don’t think…”

“That Rhaegar kidnapped Lyanna? I knew that she didn’t want to be with Robert Baratheon… I saw her receiving secret letters from someone and the way she smiled when she read them… no one made her smile like that. I pity my sister’s choice for what it cost us later… I resent what your father did to mine and my brother, but I know you’re not to blame on that.”

Daenerys genuinely smiled because for some reason, it made her incredibly happy that at least, there was one Stark that wasn’t going to judge her for something she had no part of. Though she didn’t believe that Jon held it against her, it was nice hearing it out loud.

It comforted her a bit that she wasn’t the only one believing in her brother’s innocence, that a Stark, of all people, could see it, too. Ser Barristan had told her wonderful things about Rhaegar; she grew up hearing Viserys’ stories about him, even though he’d always been angry at him for what he did.

It was known that Rhaegar Targaryen was to marry Elia Martell at age nineteen, but in a party that had everyone involved in the Seven Kingdoms Company, after winning a fencing duel, he crowned Lyanna Stark, whose parents wanted her to be with Robert Baratheon, the queen of love and beauty instead of the woman that was supposed to be his wife. It was said that all smiles died, for that could only mean he was interested in that girl.

It wasn’t a year later that Lyanna disappeared with her brother – everyone claimed that he kidnapped her and raped her. Brandon and Rickard Stark, Lyanna’s brother and father, demanded to fight Rhaegar to get her back, which drove Aerys Targaryen to the edge of madness, accusing them of treason against them. He burned son and father alive.

Robert Baratheon loved Lyanna Stark, or so everyone was told, and firmly believed that her brother had kidnapped her. He chased after Rhaegar and killed him in a last fencing duel; meanwhile Jaime Lannister murdered her father when he reached the highest level of madness, wanting to burn everyone alive. It wasn’t long for Robert Baratheon to take over her family’s company, making up excuses about her brother's death and saying that her father had signed papers before ‘dying of a terminal illness’, making him his business associate.

Stories told that Lyanna Stark killed herself after finding out about her lover’s death, but Daenerys didn’t know the details about it.

Her mother was heavily pregnant with her at the time and no longer in King’s Landing but Dragonstone, where she gave birth to her before dying. It was only she, as a newborn, and Viserys with his eight years.

Everything fell apart because her brother decided to land his eyes on Lyanna Stark.

“Enough of the past,” Benjen Stark’s voice brought her back to the present. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

**II**

It was a good dinner, as good as it could get. There were all the Stark siblings with their uncle at the head of the table, her own children and Missandei as Irri and Doreah didn’t want to share a table with them, for that was a ‘table for the rich’, so they had dinner in the cabin. Benjen Stark talked all about the town’s business, filling in Jon and Sansa about it – he was the town’s mayor after all, even if people relied more on Jon as he was the oldest son of Ned Stark.

She talked from time to time about the wonderful places she started to know in Westeros, the different culture that it had with Russia where she spent the last years, but it had been mostly Missandei exchanging opinions with Sansa about the different languages she knew and all the countries she’d visited before meeting her. It bugged Daenerys a bit the obvious way the redhead girl was trying to ignore her and focus on her friend instead, but she wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction to show it.

It wasn’t long before they ended the meal and Rickon and her children were running off of the kitchen to play for a moment before they had to leave to the cabin. Arya was quick to excuse herself to her bedroom, as Bran merely whispered a ‘good night’ before moving his electronic wheelchair away.

Benjen rose from his chair, looking down at his nephew. “Jon, I need to have a few words with you please.”

Jon nodded and gave one look towards her way before walking after his uncle out of the place. Sansa, Daenerys and Missandei all stared at each other for long seconds before her friend cleared her throat and shrugged.

“Isn’t it a good time for tea?”

There was no need to delay this since Dany was going to stay five days more, or so it was expected for the Free Folk to get to Winterfell, and she wasn’t going to bear up with Sansa’s attitude any longer. Her clear blue eyes looked like ice every time they moved towards her, as if she had done something to her.

“Sansa, I don’t know what you’ve heard of me, but I think I deserve a chance at least.”

The younger woman wasn’t even surprised by her words as she only arched an eyebrow to her. “You want to know what I think? I think you’re doing this because of what Jon did for your son, yes, but because you want us on your side, too, for when you get back the Company so you can have us under your rule.”

“Well you think wrong,” she felt Missandei’s brown eyes going back and forth between them. Her friend was sat next to her as Sansa was sitting across them. “Do you think I’m trying to get back my family’s company for the power it has? It has a great power, yes, but that’s not just it. I was fine in Russia with my children, out of danger, I could have stayed there and never come back to Westeros, do you want to know what made me realize I had to take it back?” Her ice blue eyes just stared at her, face blank, so Dany swallowed and knew she had to keep on, even if this wasn’t something everyone knew. It was easier to think of her as manipulative and power needy instead of trying to look through it. “Knowing what the Lannisters were doing to your family, to many families, the way they abused of that power much more than I could ever imagine, is what made me want to take it back.”

Something seemed to change in Sansa’s face for her eyebrows drew in together, apparently confused and surprised by this new information. It was true; Viserys was the one obsessed to get back the most powerful Company of Westeros to the point he convinced her – threatened her – into dating Drogo to have his support on it, but she wasn’t that interested in her family’s previous business.

She’d focused on raising her three children for many years, which was all she cared about. But news from what the Lannisters were doing in Westeros kept getting to her until she met Tyrion and he started trying to convince her to get it back because it was her right to be the head of it as a guilty feeling started to grow inside her, knowing that there was something she could do but she did nothing which meant she could be as responsible as the lion family for the crimes that they were committing.

It wasn’t till the boys heard Tyrion talking about such Company and they asked her what it was that something changed for her. When Daenerys told them, as much as she could, what the Seven Kingdoms Company was and who was running it, they looked up at her in confusion and told her;

_“But if it ours and bad people have them, why don’t you take it back from them?” Rhaegal had asked first._

_“It’s not that simple, sweetling. There are more important things for me.”_

_Viserion had titled his head, narrowing his golden eyes. “Like what?”_

_“Like keeping you three safe and happy, in the first place.”_

_Viserion had cuddled against her happily, Rhaegal had smiled and Drogon had looked thoughtful, shaking his head a moment later._

_“So we’ll take it back from the bad people when we’re grown,” the little black-haired told her with determination showing off in his orange eyes. “Bad people shouldn’t have it. We should.”_

Dany had reassured her son that it wouldn’t be necessary because they were all she needed to be happy, but it stuck in Drogon’s mind that they were going to take it back for her. She didn’t want to think a lot about it back then, knowing they’d forget about it soon, but the fear started to bury its roots inside her, imagining her children facing what would be left of the Lannisters, doing something _she_ should have done.

Tyrion and her children were right in the end. Bad people shouldn’t have such powerful Company. It was time for her to take back what was hers.

“I’m doing this because it’s the right thing to do, not just because the power the Company holds. When I take it back, things will change. No one will be immune to committing crimes, not you, not me, not the Lannisters.”

Sansa was silent and thoughtful for a moment, before the pride took over all her face again as she held up her chin. “And what do you want plan in doing with Winterfell once you take it back? Do you plan in just letting us do whatever we want?”

“I don’t know yet,” she said with sincerity, wanting the girl to know she was being truthful. “But what I do know is that no harm will come to your family or anyone in Winterfell because you refuse to agree with me. It’ll be all dealt in a respectful and legal way. You have my word on that.” Dany stood up and looked at her friend; she was already used to being in a tension situation that involved her, but there was still some surprise on her face. “I’ll go look for the kids. It’s getting late.”

She walked up towards the kitchen’s door and opened it, not expecting to find Jon on the other side; his eyebrows were shot up, dark eyes a bit wide, almost looking guilty that she’d found him there. He’d been listening to their conversation.

“I need to find my children,” she just said, having the feeling that Jon wanted to talk about what he’d heard but she knew this wasn’t the place or time.

Jon understood quickly and nodded his head, turning around to walk away. She followed him upstairs and was about to keep walking after him hadn’t he stopped to look back at her.

“I’ll go to Rickon’s room. Wait here.”

His voice didn’t come off as cold or rough, but there was something different about it, some hardness. Dany couldn’t figure out if he was angry about what she told Sansa, but she did nothing to question it as she waited in the middle of the great hallway and watched him walking over to one of the last rooms of it.

“It’s a real one?”

Daenerys turned to her son’s soft voice. She stepped towards the closest room to her left, the one that had the door slightly opened. She couldn’t see much of the inside but caught sight of a large mirror against a wall that showed the reflection of Arya sitting on a bed and the profile of Viserion, standing right in front of her. She narrowed her eyes a bit to have a clear vision of what the teenager girl was showing to her child; it was a large and fine sword, though it wasn’t as big as many.

“Don’t touch it,” the girl hissed. The curve of Dany’s lips lifted up to see Viserion taking his hand back quickly and ashamed. “I mean… it can hurt you if you’re not careful,” Arya said in a much softer voice.

“So this is Needle? She’s like my Vhagar to you?”

“Yeah. Jon gave it to me when I was younger… and I had to spend many years alone after that, but this? This was always with me…” Dany watched as her eyes stared down at the blade. “My parents never liked me wanting to play with swords or trying to do boxing… they didn’t believe I could do it, because I was a girl and I had to like girly things. But Jon did – he always believed in me,” her thin lips curved up into a tiny smile. “Needle reminded me of him… of home, when I was all alone.”

“Vhagar reminds me that I am a dragon, and a dragon doesn’t fear… people fear them,” his mother sighed behind the door, knowing too well that they were Drogon’s words. “Ser Barristan gave her to me when I had nightmares. My brothers didn’t go to mama’s bedroom anymore when they had bad dreams so I didn’t want to but I was afraid. Ser Barristan gave me Vhagar so she’d watch over me when I slept. I didn’t have any more bad dreams after that… but now I don’t have her with me. I’m scared I’ll have bad dreams and she won’t be there. But I’m a dragon; I shouldn’t be scared, right?”

Arya was silent for a moment before Dany heard her clearing her throat, “There were times I didn’t have Needle with me because I had to hide it away, but I always remembered it was there and that I’d come back for it. When I remembered it, I’d remember Jon giving it to me and that helped me… even when I was afraid and I didn’t have Needle near. My father used to say that a man can only be brave when he’s afraid. You can be afraid, and you can still be as brave as a dragon… as your Vhagar.”

Dany leaned in closer to watch through the mirror as a smile broke in Viserion’s face, warming her heart. She didn’t believe Arya Stark would have it in her to give her son any encouragement advice, but she shouldn’t be surprised about it; this was Viserion and that child somehow always managed to bring out the kindest side of anyone.

“Will you teach me how to use a sword?” she could imagine the excitement showing in his golden eyes as he asked. “Rhaegal always beats me when we play.”

“Sure thing,” Daenerys was a bit alarmed and about to get in the bedroom to interrupt, not wanting her child to have sharp objects on his hands. “But not with this one or your mother might kill me. Here…” she put Needle away on her bed and pulled out two small wooden swords from under it. “I used these with Bran when we were younger.”

“Cool!”

Dany watched as Arya got up from the bed and Viserion stepped back, looking down at his wooden sword. “You know the first lesson?” The boy shook his head. “Stick them with the pointy end.”

Viserion giggled. “I knew that.”

Arya rolled her eyes, smirking down at him. “Of course you would.”

“Mama?!” Daenerys spun around, too surprised by Rhaegal’s scream. There were her two boys with Jon behind them, who moved his eyes from her to the door, connecting the knots she was doing the same thing he’d done moments ago; eavesdropping. “We can’t find Viserion!”

“He’s inside there with Arya,” she told him and looked up at Jon. “I didn’t want to interrupt so…”

She saw him trying to hide a smile as he nodded, which make her form one of her own, knowing that any hardness she’d felt from him seconds ago was gone, which for some reason relaxed her. He walked past her and towards the room, she would have been right after him, hadn’t Rhaegal pulled down her sleeve.

“Can we play with Rickon tomorrow, too?”

“If he has the time for it, then yes.”

“Great, because Rickon is pretty cool! Isn’t he, Drogon?”

Drogon shrugged not looking very excited about it. “I guess so,” she knew Drogon had no problem in openly saying he didn’t like people, so that could only mean that he did, indeed, find Rickon cool, he just wasn’t going to admit it.

Laughter was heard from inside the room behind her, which made Dany look over her shoulder, a small smile drawing in her lips. She was beginning to think Rickon wasn’t the only pretty cool Stark.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! So sorry for the delay in updating but I was stuck on a part of the chapter for a few days before I could finish it, hopefully it won't happen the same with the next one.
> 
> As you could see, there were a few things told from the Starks' past, but there's much to tell yet so don't despair!
> 
> I tried to do justice to a suggestion for an Arya and Viserion encouragement scene; I wasn't joking when I said I'd like to see some of your suggestions for the story, as long as it fits the plot. :) 
> 
> Question; I have a few ideas in mind for Jonerys scenes, but do you have anything that you'd like to see for them, too?
> 
> Thank you for all your comments and kudos and bookmarks, please comment so I know what you all think or want to see, I love reading every one of them.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> Thank you for all your comments and the suggestions about Jonerys scenes and other scenes, I’m taking them all in count! I’m so happy more people are getting to find this story and like it, so thank you all.
> 
> I was planning on updating yesterday but I had been stuck with a part of this chapter most of the day so sorry! But good news is; it’s chapter 7, does that sound familiar? ;)
> 
> Kind of long chapter ahead. Please comment to let me know what you think :)

Daenerys came in the next day to the Stark living room to find Jon holding Rhaegal up on his shoulders, helping him tie two white balloons in the corner. She held her breath; no one had ever put any of her children on their shoulders except for her – till they were three and no longer that small – because they didn’t trust anyone else to do it. But Rhaegal had a wide smile on his face, his freckles shining against the light of the nearest lamp to him as he happily held the balloons and Jon tied them up; she smiled, knowing it wasn’t necessary for the child to do that but Jon let him anyway.

She almost forgot she’d came in with Doreah and only remembered when her friend hummed next to her, a smirk rising her lips with her blue eyes focused on Jon.

“He’s a very good looking man… are you sure you’re not interested in him, khaleesi?”

Dany frowned, recognizing the lust on Doreah’s face. She didn’t like it, at all. She rolled her eyes annoyed and answered between gritted teeth anyway, “Yes. I am sure.”

“Great.”

Her purple eyes watched her walking directly to Jon to start a conversation with him as he put Rhaegal down on the floor. Jon gave her friend a polite smile and looked past Doreah, towards her for a moment, so she quickly moved her stare, upset at the sudden anger growing inside her, finding Arya filling the balloons with her own breath.

She walked over to her and gestured to the already prepared balloons. “Someone’s birthday?”

Arya arched an eyebrow to her as she left an inflated blue balloon at the large table next to her. “Sam’s, Jon’s best friend,” she simply said as she took a golden deflated balloon. To see that Dany wasn’t walking away or moving, she seemed to get the hint to continue. “It was going to be at his place but there are some broken pips so Jon offered our house. Sansa went nuts because she wants everything to be perfect.”

Daenerys nodded and waited a moment before speaking up. “I wanted to thank you… for what you told to Viserion last night. It helped him. He didn’t have any nightmares.”

Arya smiled slightly, “I’m glad.” It had saddened her when the little boy had broken in her room last night, wanting to find a good place to hide since Rickon was the one supposed to count – and because he didn’t want to go to sleep because he didn’t have his stuffed dragon with him. He was at the edge of tears to mention his Vhagar, so she thought it’d be fine if she showed Needle to him and told him how special it was for her. “He’s a good kid.”

Daenerys smiled at her in gratitude and glanced over her shoulder, the curve of her lips falling to see Doreah’s flirty smile towards Jon and how she put her hand on his arm telling him something to which he nodded. She let out a frustrated sigh and looked back at Arya, who seemed to notice what she was looking at.

“So…” the Stark girl raised her eyebrows looking down at the balloon in her hands. “You’ll help me inflate these balloons or you’ll just stand here to try to not to kill your friend?”

Dany’s mouth dropped open, a sudden feeling of nervousness and embarrassment filling her. “I – I don’t want to kill her. I just think it’s improper to flirt with the persons that welcomed us into their home.”

Arya looked past her, though Dany kept her eyes on her, not wanting to see the scene again. “She won’t last much. She’s too obvious. Jon doesn’t like that. And if she doesn’t get the hint, I’ll make her see it.”

Daenerys smiled to herself to see the protective sister coming out of her. She took the red deflated balloon the girl handed her, knowing she didn’t have much option – except going back to the cabin, but she didn’t want to be alone there. Missandei and Irri were out shopping with Ser Jorah and a few Dothraki to custody them, her old friend didn’t want to leave her alone but she felt safe in the Stark territory. Plus, she had the other Dothraki around the place.

She had come to the Stark house to thank Jon for all the hotels he managed to get for the Dothraki that just arrived that morning in town after the road trip, though many of them decided to camp in the woods, liking to be in the outside.

The first thing her children did after finishing their breakfast was running off to the Stark mansion wanting to play with Rickon. She had figured they found him and were playing with him, but as she walked through the back door of the kitchen, she found Viserion helping Sansa and her cooks decorate a cake. The redhead girl seemed to have taken her words from last night very well since she gave her the smallest of smiles and even a ‘ _good morning_ ’.

Rhaegal was helping Jon set up the balloons; Drogon was the only one she hadn’t seen around; maybe he truly got along with the youngest Stark. When she finished filling up the balloon, she looked back at Arya as she tied it up. “Rickon didn’t want to help for the party?”

“He is probably doing something when he gets back from school.”

Dany’s head snapped towards her. “School? He’s not here?” Arya shook her head confused at her reaction. “But Drogon…”

“Ah Drogon, he asked me if he could play with Nymeria so I told him yes. They’re in the front yard…” Arya saw the way Daenerys tensed so she kept on. “Don’t worry; Nymeria will look out for him. She likes him. And I’m sure Ghost and Shaggydog are out there too.”

Drogon had commented in how amazing the grey wolf was, even got in an argument with Rhaegal before bed about whether Ghost or Nymeria was the biggest one. As strange as it was, she trusted the huge wolves with her children. She wasn’t naïve to their dangerousness, but they seemed to act more like dogs than wolves around the kids and the Starks. She wasn’t sure she wanted to witness their wolf side.

“You skipped school to prepare all this?”

Arya was hesitant for a moment before answering her. “Sansa, Bran and I are homeschooled. Rickon was the only one that wanted to go back to school, even if he’s a year below. Jon is the only one of us that actually finished school.”

“Oh…” she wanted to know more about him, but knew she had no right to ask more about it. She was about to try to find some other topic to talk about but Rhaegal came up running to her, a yellow balloon on his hands.

“Mama, it’s Jon’s best friend’s birthday today! We can come to the party, right?!”

“It’ll be past ten,” Arya told him instead, shrugging. “I’m not sure kids are allowed…” she didn’t even know why the hell Sansa made them make all these balloons if it was an adult’s party and there weren’t going to be much people, it wasn’t like Sam was very popular – but she would do just anything for her sister to stop complaining. “You can join Rickon, though.”

Dany arched an eyebrow, confused to her already assuming she was coming to this party of a person she didn’t know. “Rickon?”

Jon came up to them, Doreah right behind him. “Rickon wanted your boys to stay over the night. He’s not coming to the party so…”

Doreah stood next to him, putting her hand on his shoulder and excitedly looked at her. “He invited us to the party!”

Daenerys’ eyes hardened as she glared at her friend’s hand on his shoulder. Jon frowned and cleared his throat, slightly stepping away from Doreah. “You and your other friends, of course,” he told her.

“I’ll think about it,” she kept her death-glare on him. “I have to ask them if they want to come, too.”

Rhaegal pulled her sleeve to get her attention. “I want to stay over with Rickon. He wanted to show us Star Wars someday! Please, mama!”

“Hold on, what?” Arya looked back and forth between mother and son. “You guys have never watched Star Wars?” Rhaegal shook his head as Dany merely shrugged it off. Her anger faded away a bit to see such shock on Arya Stark’s shocked face. “No one gets to be in our house if they didn’t watch Star Wars. It’s a rule.”

“I was never into it,” Daenerys said; never in her life would she have expected the Starks to be such huge Star Wars nerds.

“But have you watched any movie?”

“No.”

“You have to watch at least one. Tomorrow is movies day,” after all of the Starks were reunited, they’d decided to set a schedule to do things together, as a family. The second Saturday of every month was reserved for movies day – and it was her turn to choose one. “We’re going to watch Star Wars, you can join us.”

“That would be so much fun!” Doreah spoke up nodding her head.

Arya glared at her. “You’re not invited.”

Jon gave her a look as Rhaegal giggled, putting a hand over his mouth and locking eyes with the wolf girl for a moment. “We should go, Doreah,” Daenerys was quick to say, taking her arm and gently leading her away from Jon, turning around to look at the Stark siblings and her son. “Rhaegal, when you’re finished helping here, go back to the cabin with your brothers for lunch, alright?” Doreah walked in the kitchen and she was about to cross it, hadn’t a gentle hand took her arm to make her turn around.

“Daenerys wait,” Jon whispered; she frowned, not knowing if he was making these puppy eyes on purpose or not. She looked down at the way he was holding her arm which made him let go of it. “I just wanted to tell you I didn’t invite your friend to the party – I mean I did, but I just told her I was going to ask you and she said she accepted. I didn’t mean to –”

“You don’t have to explain me anything, Jon,” she cut him off with that harsh tone of voice she would only use to give orders. She swallowed and tried her best to calm down her illogical and stupid anger. “We’re both adults. I understand.”

He was genuinely confused for a moment before realization hit his face, his eyes widening as he shook his head. “I don’t mean anything towards your friend… I actually…” his words trailed off and she frowned confused to see him a bit conflicted. “Never mind. You should come if you want; it’s just a few people are coming, a small party.”

She wanted to know what he was going to say, but decided to not push it. “I’ll see what Missandei and Irri think about it. As for my children staying here with Rickon… I don’t have a problem with that.”

He gave her a half-smile. “Good.”

She gave him a nod and turned around, walking into the kitchen, knowing fully well she wasn’t going to come to the party, and if she didn’t go, neither would Doreah.

**I**

She knew she shouldn’t have come to the party.

It wasn’t just for the way Doreah was almost about to sit on Jon’s lap at any time given how close she was sitting next to him, invading his space as she kept leaning in. There was some anger but also second-hand embarrassment, but she was _not_ going to walk over there to tell her to get off of him, neither. So she kept her purple gaze elsewhere and found that most people would suspiciously glare at her.

Jon was right; there were only a few people there. She recognized Sam who presented her his girlfriend and son, there were about six men drinking beers and eating pizza that for some reason, Ser Jorah seemed to get along with. They’d look at her from time to time, sometimes with curiousness in their eyes, sometimes with a hunger to which she’d make sure they’d see her rolling her eyes at.

Arya was talking to two boys near the stairs; one was tall with dark hair and sea blue eyes and the other was a short, fat boy with dark curly hair.

Missandei and Sansa were next to her talking about how they sewed their own clothes. Irri appeared to her other side, her eyes growing at the sight of their other friend.

“What is she doing? I told her to stay away from him.”

Dany arched an eyebrow and drank from her cup wine. “We know how much she listens to us when it’s about her personal life…”

“But that is not right, khaleesi,” Irri hissed shaking her head, showing the anger that she didn’t dare to. “He is yours.”

Dany almost chocked on her own drink and before she could ask her what on earth was she talking about, Irri stormed off towards the couch on which Jon and Doreah were sitting. She saw from afar Irri taking Doreah’s arm and practically dragging her away from the man.

“We’re going to go get the lemon cake,” Missandei whispered to her before hurrying after Sansa into the kitchen.

Daenerys was far from long in being intimidated by men so it wasn’t a problem for her to be left alone with them, even though Arya was just a feet away but too entertained with her friends to even notice her presence. Sam’s girlfriend, Gilly, seemed to have run off towards the bathroom with her son in arms.

There was the same dark-haired man looking at her not with suspicious but lust in his eyes, gazing at her up and down. She held his stare, not wanting him to believe she was uncomfortable by him. She wasn’t even that dressed up, just normal blue skinny jeans and a black top that wasn’t almost showed due to the black leather jacket covering it.

“I met them at the Night’s Watch University…” Jon blocked her view from the man as she swallowed and looked up at him, the frustrated feeling she was holding back just moments ago fading out to see the curve of his lips lifting up and his eyes softening at her sight. “I spent two years with them before I had to leave. Don’t mind them. They just have never seen someone so… stunning before.”

She smiled brightly, her cheeks lightly becoming pinkish for a moment. “So… Night’s Watch University? What were you in for?”

“Philosophy degree,” he drank a sip from his beer and shrugged. “It wasn’t the best university but my father had contacts in the Wall, too, so it wasn’t a problem to get in.”

Dany was more surprised to imagine him as a philosopher than knowing the University he went, even if it was for just two years. It was more than what she’d had… and still, Jon was trying to justify him going to it, even if she didn’t know its reputation or any better than it.

“Philosophy degree, huh?”

He left out a small chuckle. “I know, I don’t exactly look like the stereotypical philosopher… I’m good at other things but philosophy seemed right to me.”

“We all enjoy what we’re good at.”

“No, I don’t.”

That had Dany frowning in curiosity for a moment. “I didn’t have the chance to go to college or a university…” she wanted to study more about politics or economy after finishing high school – she’d always been homeschooled by so many different teachers she lost count. Viserys didn’t let her keep studying because they had to gain allies to get back their Company; once it was back on his hands, she’d have all time to get in a good University, worth of their name, he used to say. She married Drogo at age seventeen with her brother’s consent and there was no more use in dreaming with having a degree in anything. “I’m sure it was a good experience.”

“It was,” he nodded towards her. “What did you want to study?”

“Politics. Or economy.”

His eyes sparkled at that. “My brother, Robb, wanted to study politics. He should have gone to the Red Keep University,” it was the best University of their country; he knew his brother would have done so well there. He never dared to ask his father to go there, for he knew his stepmother would never allow it. She always made sure to put a distance between what his siblings got and what was left for him. “It’s not too late for you. I’m sure you’ll have the chance.”

Daenerys gave him a small, almost melancholy smile. She stared past him and he sighed, not wanting to turn around to see one of his friends was trying to undress her with his eyes again. He didn’t miss those looks before but didn’t want to be rude to Doreah and leave her talking alone so he could go tell the boys to behave themselves – had they never seen someone so beautiful? He’d want to stare too, but he knew he shouldn’t. It wasn’t right.

Jon was about to turn to tell them to cut it off, even it meant starting an argument given the beers they already had on them. But Daenerys’ soft voice stopped him before he could even move.

“And you met them in your philosophy classes, too?”

Jon grinned. “No, just Sam. The others I met in the team – we played American football inside the University. Ser Davos was our couch,” who dropped out just like he did when he found out he was leaving to find his family. He’d been disgusted and horrified with the Lannisters murdering not only his father but brother and stepmother so he chose to go with him on his quest to find them.

He would always regret not leaving sooner to be side by side with Robb, but now he understood his motives into convincing him to stay at the University and let him handle the situation. If Jon was with him, whatever thing that happened to him, it would happen to Jon, too, and their father was already gone. Their Uncle Benjen was travelling around the world, they couldn’t count on him. It’d be up to him to make sure their sisters and brothers were safe.

Still, Jon regretted not leaving sooner to be with Robb, to find Sansa instead of believing she was safe with her aunt Lysa. He was never going to forgive himself for that and he wasn’t sure his sister would ever be able to forgive him, either.

Jon drank what was left of his beer in one sip, not wanting to remember that at that very moment. His phone started vibrating inside the pocket of his jacket; he took it out and gave it one glance before rejecting the call and turning the phone off. He didn’t want to deal with that now, either.

He felt Daenerys’ questioning eyes on him so he quickly saved the phone back where it was back and looked back at her. “Are the Dothraki feeling comfortable here?”

“They’re used to winter… they’re from Russia after all.”

Something had been intriguing Jon. He had caught Rhaegal and Drogon speaking not in English but what he assumed was Russian and they spoke of it like it was the most common thing – which it was, for them. They were raised there but they spoke of English as perfectly. It made him wonder how many places they’d lived in.

“You grew up in Russia?”

Daenerys took her moment to answer. “No. Viserys told me we were in England at first… then Germany. The first country I truly remember is Italy. We were there for almost six years… we moved to Greece and then to Russia when I turned sixteen. I stayed there to raise my children until I decided to come to Westeros.”

He cleared his throat, knowing this was the chance to explain what happened last night. “About what you told Sansa… I didn’t want to just walk in on that, so I stayed back but…”

“Jon,” she interrupted him quickly. “If you got upset that I spoke to your sister like that, she had to understand that –”

A frown drew in on his face. “What? I wasn’t upset for how you spoke to Sansa. I wanted to apologize on her behalf… her behavior was childish. Uncle Benjen talked to her, too. She seemed to come to her senses.”

“Oh… I thought…”

“No, that was alright. She sort of needed it,” Sansa listened to him as much as he listened to her, but his explaining that Daenerys wasn’t a threat wasn’t enough for her so it was good the other woman stood up for her and that their Uncle Benjen made her see that Daenerys wasn’t to blame for whatever her family did.

Daenerys nodded with a half-side grin. “Well, she did treat me better today. I think it had its effects…” they both shared small chuckles and a moment passed before she looked up at him again. “I… need to see how my children are doing. Would you mind showing me Rickon’s room?”

“Yes, sure.”

Jon turned and walked over to the stairs, seeing Daenerys’ shadow right behind him. He saw the way his friends’ lips started to curve into smirks to the sight of the Targaryen woman, but he only had to send his most real death-glare to their way for them to look away and not even say a comment. They could be pricks when they wanted.

They soon reached the second floor and Rickon’s room, which happened to be almost at the one of the corners of the hallway. He gently pushed open the door to peer inside, feeling Daenerys leaning in next to him. It was 10:30pm and a Friday night, and he knew the habit that Rickon had grown into in playing videogames till late in the night when it was weekend.

Jon wasn’t surprised to find him playing with Drogon, as much as the younger boy tried to keep up. Rhaegal was already passed out on one of the three mattresses that they put on the floor, the boys were happy to sleep on them, promising to make it like a camp. The room was a mess, so it was safe to say they’d been successful.

Viserion was lying down next to Drogon, looking up at whatever his brother was doing. To hear the door being pushed, the three boys looked over to them and it was the smallest one that jumped up to run towards his mother.

“Mama!”

“Hey,” Daenerys smiled and rubbed Viserion’s soft cream-blonde hair as he held on to her legs. “Are you having fun?” Rickon and Drogon were too concentrated on whatever Zombie game he was sure his brother was obsessed into. The boy clinging to his mother just looked up at her and held up his little arms towards her. She picked him up and Jon smiled at him cuddling against her, almost trying to hide his face on her neck.

“I can’t sleep, mama.”

“I’m sure you will. You’re sleepy already, I can tell,” she smiled at him rubbing off some hair from his forehead.

Viserion shook his head and held on tighter. “Can I go back with you? Please?”

Daenerys had told Jon that this was the first time her sons would sleep somewhere away from her, just to warn him about the possibilities of them wanting to go back with her. He was glad Viserion was expressing his feelings now with his mother near and not once it was all settled.

“I thought you wanted to stay here?”

Viserion looked unsure for a moment and opened his mouth to speak, but Drogon was ahead of him, yelling from inside the room, “Don’t be a baby!”

Rhaegal didn’t even wince – that boy could sleep through anything and was probably too used to his brother’s screams. However, Viserion frowned upset, his chin starting to tremble meaning it wouldn’t be long for the tears to appear.

“Drogon, don’t say that to your brother. And don’t yell, Rhaegal is sleeping.”

“Come on, Viserion,” Rickon tried to encouragement him, gesturing him to sit next to him. “It’ll be your turn next and then we’ll watch that Disney movie you wanted.”

“Mhm… okay. I’ll stay.”

“Are you sure?” Daenerys wanted to be certain that there would be no crying in the middle of the night for her. The little boy nodded his head in certainty. “Good,” she kissed his forehead and put him down on the ground, watching as he ran towards Rickon to sit next to him and look up at the TV screen glued to the wall. She walked further in the room and bent down to kiss Rhaegal’s head, he didn’t even flinch at the touch. She turned towards her oldest. “Be good, Drogon. Don’t make your brother cry, all right?”

His orange eyes didn’t move off of the screen as he nodded. “Yes mama.”

“Goodnight, boys. Goodnight, Rickon.”

“Goodnight!”

Daenerys placed a kiss on the top of Drogon’s head and walked away as Jon stepped closer to the room. “Rickon, make it Viserion’s turn now and turn that off in ten minutes if you’re going to watch a movie after it.”

“Okay, Jon,” his younger brother answered with an annoyed voice.

“I’ll come back in ten minutes to see it.” Jon warned him, knowing he’d do as he pleased if there wasn’t a warning. He closed the door and saw the nervousness in Daenerys’ purple eyes as she looked at the door behind him. “They’ll be fine. You’re just a few meters away.”

The lights suddenly went off in the entire hallway but the lights from downstairs were still intact, as the one coming from under Rickon’s bedroom door. Jon sighed, remembering Sansa telling him that the lights in the hallway were working wrong – it looked like she was right.

Darkness in the hallway wasn’t good. They decided to leave the lights on for the night because Rickon and Sansa had constant nightmares, as dumb as it could sound for some people, it comforted them.

“I need to fix this,” Jon told Dany, but didn’t see her moving to walk away. “You’ll help me?”

A nod from her was all he needed to turn around and walk towards the room across the other corner. He stepped in and found that the lights didn’t work there either since the circuit breaker was inside; it was the room of the second floor that had shelves with all tools. There was the sound of some digging behind him and next thing he saw was a blinding light right on his face.

Jon heard a soft, almost angelical giggle before Daenerys’ voice sounded. “Sorry.”

A lantern’s light showed him the circuit breaker box as Daenerys stepped forward to help him see. He opened the box and saw the lever that corresponded to the hallway down; he pushed it up but nothing happened. A sigh escaped his lips, knowing this wouldn’t work tonight – his eyes moved to his right for a moment, seeing the light illuminating Daenerys’ profile, the way her eyebrows drew in together and her lips pursed in, showing her concentration.

She looked over at him and he quickly moved his eyes forward, clearing his throat in the process. “I guess I’ll have to call the electrical technician.”

Dany let out a small snort. “Doreah kind of know about this…” she stayed silent for a moment. “I am sure she will be pleased to give you a hand.”

Jon recognized the annoyance carrying her words so he frowned a bit confused, remembering the previous glares he’d see she sent towards them – or the way she looked at her friend being near him earlier in the day. He didn’t want her to think that he was interested in her friend – Doreah was a beautiful woman, but she wasn’t the one that had been in his mind ever since he left the Crownlands.

Daenerys was looking at him with hard and cold eyes, like she was annoyingly expecting him to say or do something.

Wasn’t he that obvious already?

He had learnt something in all those years… he wasn’t Robb, even though he had more years than he did, Robb had known his way around women. Jon had learnt some things here and there but it was different with the Dragon woman. He hadn’t thought before he had a chance; he was well aware that she was in his house in the first place because she felt obligated in an honor sense. But even if he didn’t know how to act around her, feeling like a hopeless teenager boy all over again, there was something he did know: Daenerys was jealous of him and Doreah.

Jon wasn’t good with words and he couldn’t come up with another idea to express what he was feeling, because he wanted her to know and _he_ had to know if he was right about it.

So he did the first thing that came to his mind.

He kissed her – softly and slowly, wanting to take in every second of it… it took her by surprise, for it took a few seconds for him to feel the lips that tested like red wine pressing against his. He was about to reach out towards her waist, hadn’t something smash against the floor, making him break apart, opening his eyes to find the room in all darkness.

Jon couldn’t see Daenerys, couldn’t see the hand going to his face but he did feel the slap across his left cheek. He heard her heavily footsteps walking away and saw the door of the room slamming shut seconds later.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

He ran out of the room but she was no longer in the hallway. He went downstairs, seeing her silver-blonde braided hair going through the living room to get in the kitchen. He felt all the eyes in the room, even heard Arya calling out for him, but he ignored her as he walked after her.

“Daenerys, wait!” She quickened her pace when she got out of the kitchen’s back door. He hurried up and caught hold of her arm to make her stop, his fingers freezing by the snow falling above them. “Wait, please –”

“Don’t touch me!” Daenerys got rid of his grip harsh and quick. He could swear he saw fire lighting up her purple eyes; something that he had never seen, not even when she thought he had something to do with Rhaegal going missing. “Who do you think I am?!”

“I’m sorry,” he was fast to try to apologize, knowing he screwed it up. He should have let her think whatever she was imagining; he should have said something stupid instead of _doing_ something stupid. “I didn’t mean to off –”

“I’m not some casual woman you can just kiss and take to your bed, Jon Snow,” she hissed between gritted teeth. It was then that he didn’t just feel the anger coming off of her but a hint of pain. “You think you can have my friend and me? Who’s next? My other friends?!”

Jon’s eyes grew wild; that was the last thing he wanted her to think. He didn’t want to have anyone but… “No, no, I didn’t do it because of that… Daenerys, you –”

She held up her hand, the disgust showing off of her face. “Don’t ever presume to say my name again,” he sighed. He had crossed the line. How stupid could he be? “If it wasn’t clear enough for you, do I need to remind you I’m here because you saved my son?” He should have known. “I’m already paying my debt by helping you so go and try to take any woman you like, but you leave me _alone_ , or else you’ll know what a real dragon looks like.”

Daenerys turned around and stormed off towards the cabin just a few meters away.  Jon put a hand on the back of his head and let out a frustrated sigh, wanting to punch something.

He was wrong – he hadn’t learned anything, he still knew nothing.


	8. Chapter 8

Jon groaned in his sleep, putting his forearm over his eyes, trying to ignore whatever thing was pocking his other arm. It was probably morning already but he needed the sleep; Sam’s party ended at almost midnight, considering there wasn’t much for men to talk about. Daenerys’ friends left to go to her cabin but it was less than five minutes before he saw them crossing the street to get to the apartment in front of his house. Sansa and Arya tried to get information from him about what happened, but he refused and made it clear he wasn’t in the mood to tell it.

He wanted to leave the party as soon as he entered back in the kitchen, but knew he couldn’t do that to his best friend, so he stayed and spoke the minimal.

He felt like he hadn’t slept anything and was about to yell at probably one of his sisters to leave him alone but opened his eyes and didn’t find the sunlight that always came through the curtains of his room. It was still all dark.

“Jon?”

He snapped his head towards his other side, his eyes narrowing to see a bunch of blonde, almost white hair. He sat up straight and turned on the lamp on his nightstand, the light showing Viserion standing right next to his bed, nervously biting his bottom lip as big teardrops ran down his chubby cheeks.

“Viserion, what’s wrong?” He cleared his throat to hear his own voice so hoarse. “Are you okay?”

“I had a bad dream. I want to go to my mama; can you take me to her?”

Jon sighed, seeing the hour that the electronic clock on his nightstand marked. Three in the morning. The last thing he needed was to wake Daenerys up at this hour and he was sure as hell that the last thing she wanted was to see his face this late at night, or to see him at all for that matter.

“Alright. I’ll take you to your mother.”

**I**

Daenerys wrapped her fingers tighter around the tea cup she was holding. She let out a small sigh; it was three in the morning and she still hadn’t found it in herself to close an eye. She gave up on trying an hour ago, after she turned from side to side on the bed like more than fifty times, and decided to get up and sit on the couch in front of the fireplace; fire was the only thing that could comfort her besides her friends and children.

She had snapped at Doreah, Irri and Missandei when they tried to know why she left the party like that with Jon going after her. When they kept insisting in wanting to know, she yelled at them to leave her alone. It was wrong but she didn’t want anyone around her at the moment; she was going to apologize to them in the morning.

Jon’s soft lips kept crossing her mind; no one had ever kissed her like that, not even Drogo or Daario. She’d wanted to lose herself in them, but the lantern slipped from her hand and the sound of its crashing against the floor made her snap out of its fantasy. It made her remember who she was and that she couldn’t let a man think she was one more of the pack. It’d angered her to remember him flirting with Doreah and now there kissing her like she wouldn’t say anything about it; before her thoughts could stop for a moment to let her think clearly, her hand was already slapping him across the face.

Dany didn’t want to admit it, but she wasn’t just angry, she was scared – of herself, of treasuring that simple kiss like it had been her first one all over again. She didn’t want to feel anything, she couldn’t go there; she had much more important things to focus on. The fear was much bigger than the anger she felt towards Jon to think he was trying to play with her, because deep down she knew he wasn’t that kind of guy, he wouldn’t do that to her.

But truth was, she had felt with that short and sweet kiss more than she’d ever felt with Daario, how was it possible?

There was a soft knock on the door that startled her. Her eyebrows drew in together, thinking of who it could be this late at night. It had to be someone the two Dothraki men guarding outside the cabin trusted or else they wouldn’t let them that close.

She put the cup on the small table in front of the couch and headed towards the door.

“Who is it?”

“Jon,” came the answer from the other side of the door. Daenerys held her breath, not believing he had come all this way to talk to her in the middle of the night, he – “With Viserion.”

Dany opened the door in a second, watching her youngest son looking very small in the black jacket that was covering him. He reached out to her as soon as he saw her and she didn’t doubt to take him in her arms, a confused and worried frown settling in.

“Are you okay?” She asked him, her purple eyes staring at the man in front of her that kept his eyes down. She let out a sigh, feeling terrible to realize he must have felt so ashamed for the way she reacted.

“I had a bad dream,” Viserion whispered, hiding his face on her neck as his little arms wrapped around it. “I wanted to find you but couldn’t so I asked Jon.”

Daenerys swallowed when Jon looked up at her, his dark eyes didn’t have the normal softness that she would find there. “Thanks,” she managed to murmur.

Jon only stared through her. “Goodnight,” he said before turning around and walking away, hands on the pockets of his grey jogging.

“Goodnight Jon!” Viserion shouted, even waving to him but with no response from the other man. His mother sighed and closed the door with her free hand. “Is Jon upset, mama?”

“I don’t know,” she lied and turned around to walk back to her room, starting to hear what Viserion’s nightmare was about. She had to admit she was glad he was here with her now; maybe she could get some sleep with her son by her side.

Daenerys had felt a hint of guilt before, but after seeing Jon’s pained eyes, the guilt only grew. She hated how harsh and cold she was when she got defensive but she couldn’t help it. She could apologize to him, tell him that deep down she knew he wouldn’t play with her but she couldn’t confess him that was exactly the reason he should stay away from her.

Jon was focused on his town, on his family. Dany was focused on her children and taking back her family’s Company. She was _not_ going to start something that wouldn’t work and could end up getting her hurt.

**II**

Viserion reached out to his right in his sleep but to find nothing, he opened his eyes. There was light outside which meant it had to be morning and his mama was already up. He yawned and scratched his eyes before jumping off the bed, ready to ask for his hot cocoa. The nightmare about falling into an ice lake had been horrible but no bad dream came after being safe in his mama’s arms.

The six year old boy opened the door and walked out, hearing his mama and Missandei’s voices from the kitchen.

“That’s why I wanted to be alone,” his mama said leaning against the kitchen counter. “Because Jon kissed me and I said all those things to him.”

Viserion’s golden eyes widened as he quickly stepped back and hid behind the wall, knowing what _kissing_ meant. He still remembered when Drogon told them what Missy told him that boyfriend meant; it was a boy that liked someone very much and would hold hands with them, kiss them – on the cheek or the mouth. They had seen on movies those kinds of boyfriends and they didn’t want any Daario doing that to their mama.

“What are you going to do about it?” Missy’s voice said after a moment.

“Nothing. I’ll pretend like it didn’t happen because nothing can happen, Missandei. We’re just… so different.”

Missy snorted. “But do you like him?” There was a silence which made Viserion poke out his head, but all he could see was their profiles, even though he recognized the big smile on Missy’s face as she shook her head towards his mama. “You do like him.”

“Stop. I don’t want to talk about it here… Viserion might wake up.”

“Dany, I know you. If you want to pretend like it didn’t happen and you can’t face it is because it’s something big for you. You shouldn’t hold yourself back.”

Viserion frowned in confusion, starting to walk backwards. Jon kissed his mama which meant he liked her in a boyfriend way… and his mama liked Jon back, too. He didn’t know what to feel about it; he liked Jon, a lot. He was very nice. He liked his brothers and sisters too, Rickon was pretty cool, Arya was teaching him how to swordfight and Sansa had been very kind to him when he helped her decorate the cakes just yesterday. He liked the Starks and knew that it wouldn’t bother him if his mama wanted to hold hands or kiss Jon in a boyfriend and girlfriend way… but why did his mama want to pretend like nothing happened?

He stopped walking when his back suddenly hit something hard behind him, making him jump back when a loud crash was heard. Viserion put his hands on his ears and looked down at the broken big jar that was in a large and high small table right behind him, which was also down on the floor.

“Viserion!” His mama took him and moved him away from the broken pieces, worriedly looking him up and down. “What happened?”

“I…” he was so bad at lying, but he couldn’t tell her what he just heard. He knew lying wasn’t right but this was a special case. “I ran into it. I didn’t see it. I’m sorry.”

A big sigh came out from his mother’s mouth as Missy started to collect the broken pieces of the jar. “It’s alright, sweetling. Go to your room to get dressed, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Viserion nodded and walked towards his room, eager to get dressed, have breakfast and find his brothers to tell them what he heard. Well, not Drogon, because he wasn’t sure he liked Jon very much, but Rhaegal did – he would know what to do.

**III**

Daenerys looked around the living room after Drogon and Rhaegal hugged her and ran back to their place on the couch between Rickon and Arya, Sansa was sitting on a single couch to its right looking bored as she kept staring and scrolling down on her phone’s screen. Bran was on his wheelchair as usual, in the middle of the single and the big couches. The three wolves were lying down in front of the TV. But there was no sign of Jon.

“I need to talk to you!” Viserion said, taking Rhaegal’s arm and trying to pull him out of the couch. The other boy frowned and shook his head.

“No, Luke, Han and Princess Leia fell in the garbage, I have to –”

“It’s important!” The blonde child dragged his brother away into the kitchen under everyone’s confused gazes.

Dany couldn’t imagine what could be so important that he’d take his brother away like that. “Come on, take your seat, this movie is far from ending,” Arya told her before throwing a bunch of popcorn inside her mouth.

Daenerys sat on the single couch to the big couch’s left, being unsure about whether to get out of there or stay to talk to Jon – she didn’t even know what to tell him but she had to apologize for her behavior from last night. They still had to work together to face the Free Folk, she had to stay there for other three days, she couldn’t just ignore him or treat him badly.

“Where’s Jon?” she suddenly asked.

Arya shrugged, not even taking her eyes off of the screen. “Don’t know, the cook says he left early in the morning…” it took her a moment to eye her in a suspicious way. “Why?”

“Oh, nothing… I have to discuss some things about the Free Folk with him.”

A few minutes passed before Rhaegal and Viserion came in to the living room running, their breathing heavy and cheeks flushed like they’d been running a long way.

“We need to talk to you, Rickon!” Rhaegal took the Stark boy’s arm and pulled from it, almost jumping to get his attention. “Now!”

Drogon frowned a bit upset. “What about?”

Rhaegal ignored him as he pulled more from Rickon’s arm, getting him out of the couch. “It’s very important, Rickon, come on!”

Both Targaryen boys dragged the Stark up the stairs; their other brother following them with his angry orange eyes and crossed arms over his chest. Daenerys found it strange they didn’t include Drogon on whatever secret was going between them – she should talk to them about it because she recognized the angry frown on her oldest son’s face.

The keys in the doorknob echoed through the house and as Dany looked towards the front door, Jon walked in, another taller man right behind him. He paused in his tracks to see her but quickly gazed away, towards his sisters and brother.

“I got the electrical technician; we’ll be up there fixing the lights.”

Sansa arched an eyebrow to him. “Good morning to you, too.” Jon didn’t answer back as he walked up the stairs, saying a few words to the man next to him. “Someone woke up cranky today.”

Arya rolled her eyes. “No one will ever top you, don’t worry.”

“Shut up.”

Daenerys cleared her throat and stood up, getting the Stark sisters’ attention. “I’ll discuss it with him… now. I… have other things to do later,” she knew it was an unnecessary explanation when the girls only looked at her in confusion. She didn’t waste time to walk away.

The hallway’s lights were still out but the sunlight coming from outside was enough to illuminate the second floor. She remembered very well the room she was in last night so it wasn’t long before she found the door and knock on it. Jon opened the door as expected; there was a bit of surprise on his face features to see her there.

“Can we talk?”

He glanced over his shoulder to see that the electrical technician was busy working on the circuit breaker. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he told her looking back at her, a new coldness filling his dark stare. “What happened last night won’t happen again, I can assure you.”

“I wanted to apologize for the way I reacted… I didn’t mean to slap you or to sound so harsh and –”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” Jon cut her off before she could finish. He was being cold towards her, she felt it. “What I did was wrong and I apologize if I offended you. I… was a bit a drunk and crossed the line. We work together and then you go home. I understand.”

A bit drunk? Daenerys frowned confused. She couldn’t figure out if he was trying to make up an excuse or that was actually happened. Either way, she wanted to tell him more… that it wasn’t his fault, that it was stupid of her to overreact like that, but instead she swallowed and nodded at him.

“Just to be clear, I don’t think you’re the kind of guy that… plays with women. I didn’t mean that.”

“Good. I have to help him, so…”

It upset her he was being so distant, but she understood, even if she didn’t know if it was something he was doing because he was truly angry at her or to keep a distance from her from the shame he felt. Daenerys turned around to leave but was met with Rickon and her two sons almost running into her.

“Jon!” Rhaegal excitedly said to see him. “We’re watching Star Wars for first time, are you coming?”

“I can’t,” Dany frowned to not hear that soft voice that he always used towards her children. “I’m busy here…” his tone seemed to light up a bit when he locked eyes with the boy’s green gaze. “You go take them Rickon.”

Rickon opened his mouth. “But…” he couldn’t keep on that his brother closed the door and left them standing there in confusion. “What’s wrong with him?”

It took Dany a moment to realize he was talking to her. She shook her head, for there was no answer she could give to him. “It must be a rough day.”

Rhaegal and Viserion were looking at her with a mix of curiousness and concentration, like they always did when they were trying to figure something out. They were up to something, but before she could question it, the eleven year old Stark spoke up.

“We have to go back to Star Wars.”

Viserion showed genuine confusion. “But what about the mission?”

She titled her head at that. “What mission?”

Rhaegal’s eyes grew wild as he took his brother’s arm and shook his head. “We have to keep watching Star Wars, let’s go!”

The three boys ran downstairs, leaving her alone in the hallway. Daenerys looked back at the door behind her, not knowing why she felt so rejected and… upset at Jon’s coldness – but could she blame him? She’d been cruel to say such things to his face. And wasn’t that what she wanted? For him to stay away from her.

Was _that_ what she wanted?

Dany sighed, trying to shake these thoughts off of her head, and walked away.

**IV**

Jon sighed, letting himself be carried away by the little bronze-haired boy that was pulling his arm and leading the way to the backyard, apparently. He tried to be as gentle as possible in telling the child that he couldn’t play with him because he had to help his uncle with some papers of the town, but truth was, Uncle Benjen didn’t need him right away and he couldn’t resist the way Rhaegal’s chin started to tremble, fearing the kid was about to burst into tears.

He frowned, remembering how Rhaegal’s face changed from sadness to happiness as soon as he muttered a ‘yes’, like he’d been acting it all along.

Staying away from the Targaryen children – and their mother – was the right thing to do, as much as it pained him, because even if Daenerys rejected him and didn’t want anything with him, two of her sons adored him as much as he adored them, he even had a spot in his heart for little Drogon and his fussy attitude towards him. He didn’t want to hurt them but it was clear that after the argument he had with their mother she was not going to stay in contact with him after the situation with the Free Folk was resolved.

But it was difficult to say _no_ to them and he wasn’t sure he could reverse the relationship he’d created with Rhaegal and Viserion… it was already there and the children would do nothing but try to make it grow, unaware of the adults’ problems.

They passed through the kitchen backdoor and that was when he had to stop.

Did they do this on purpose?

There was Viserion and Drogon _with Daenerys_ , making a snowman. He swallowed to even hear the soft laughter coming out from her lips to see the funny hat her youngest son put on the snowman’s head, unaware of his presence as she was kneeling on the ground with her back towards them.

_Shit_. Rhaegal didn’t mention his mother was going to help them prepare a snowman.

As much as he hated to let the boy down, he let go of his little hand and shook his head. “I… actually have to go.”

It was then that Daenerys turned around at the sound of his voice. The white beanie covering part of her blonde-silver hair made her even cuter than she already was and he hated it. _God, this was going to be hard._

“You don’t need me to help you with the snowman,” he tried to find an excuse to give the boy, even though the disappointment was already crossing his face. He took a deep breath and gave a nod towards his mother. “You have your mother.”

“But we want to make more snowmen,” Rickon appeared behind him, giving him his best grin. It wouldn’t work this time. “Come on Jon, you and Robb used to make the best snowmen.”

That was low. Using Robb was very low. Still, he shook his head. “I really have to –”

Daenerys stood up, shaking off the snow from her jeans and black coat. “We could actually use more snowmen,” he frowned to see a small smile tugging in her lips, a hit of hope inside her purple eyes. Was she kidding? His face must have said it all, because the start of any smile she was about to give him faded away.

What was she trying to do? Jon knew he’d been wrong; he shouldn’t have kissed her. That was too impulsive from his part; he should have let her know what he felt instead of showing her… maybe she wouldn’t have reacted like that and could have politely rejected him, but that wasn’t what happened. He kissed her and she slapped him across the face, yelled at him at the top of her lugs to leave her alone.

He was trying to come to terms to get her out of his head, even if he knew he was going to see her every day for the next three days, she made it _very clear_ she was not interested in him – his flushed cheek burning from last night made sure of showing that.

But here she was, trying to get him to make a snowman with her and her children, like some happy family. What game was she playing? He was not going to fall into it; he may have exposed himself by showing her he had feelings for her, even if she misunderstood it and thought he wanted to play with her and her friend, but he was not some stupid puppet that she could use whenever she felt like it.

He didn’t want to say it to the kids’ faces; they weren’t the problem, so Jon looked right back at Daenerys, narrowing his eyes. “No, I can’t,” he didn’t intend for the sharpness in his voice, but he didn’t regret it either, not even to see the flick of surprise showing off of her face. “I have things to do,” he gazed down at the six year old standing in front of him, trying to give him the best smile he could manage at the moment. “Sorry, bud.”

Jon turned around and started to head to the back door, hearing Rhaegal’s voice saying his name as he opened it, followed by Rickon’s telling him to let him go. He let out a frustrated sigh and slammed the door shut behind him. He didn’t want this, she did – and there was no coming back from it now.

Rhaegal crossed his small arms over his chest and formed a put as he heard Drogon asking for their mother’s help to create the snowman’s eyes. Jon didn’t want to come at first but then he accepted after he made the puppy eyes that he knew worked on everyone; why didn’t he want to play now?

He looked up at Rickon. “Why didn’t it work?”

“I think Jon’s angry with your mother,” the eleven year old whispered back, making sure that Daenerys was focused on helping Drogon make the snowman and not hearing them. “They must have fought after the kiss.”

Viserion stared back and forth between the two of them, utterly disorientated. “But if he kissed her is because he likes her, right? Why is he angry now?”

Rickon shrugged. “I don’t know, adults are complicated. Trust me. But we’ll have to think of something else.”

Rhaegal nodded determined; he couldn’t be happier when Viserion told him that Jon had kissed their mama, and was confused at first when he said that their mama wanted to pretend like it didn’t happen. That was why they told Rickon; he was older and maybe he had an answer to it. The Stark boy had been as happy as he was when they told him, but he explained to them that maybe they were shy to admit their feelings for each other, so they should help them.

Besides, Rickon said that if his brother and their mother liked each other in the boyfriend and girlfriend way, they’d be a couple, and couples married if they truly loved each other. They could become a family – they would never have to say goodbye to each other, not really, not even to Jon or Ghost. Rhaegal been delighted to imagine Jon and Ghost living with them.

He never wanted any boyfriend for his mama; she didn’t need anyone else besides them and they already had a daddy, even if they’d never met him and he was in heaven with their other brother. But Rhaegal liked Jon, he was brave and nice and good and he made his mama smile, even if they thought he didn't see them. No one would be better than Jon.

He, Viserion and Rickon took it upon themselves to make them see that they liked each other; they made it a mission and he even got to name it, because an important mission _had_ to have a name.

It was the Dragon-Wolf mission, and once the name was made, it was done. He and his brothers had always accomplished missions before; this wasn’t going to be the exception.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I am so happy to see the response the previous chapter got, so glad you all had something to say about it. 
> 
> I couldn't help myself and as soon as I updated the chapter I started writing the next one so that's why I can update this early. Let's hope this happens again lol!
> 
> I loved the little debate that was made in the comments about Jon being cold to the kids from now on or not; I stand in the middle. He won't be cruel or cold towards them, but he kind of wants to back away for a bit for their own sake. We shall see if he'll resist their tactics.
> 
> So... basically Dany panicked with what she felt and instead of trying to work it out, she let it all out on poor Jon in that overreacting way. Good thing is, she knows she fucked it up but Jon's got some dignity so it's not going to be easy for her now ;). Not to mention; the kids are trying to set them up together. Things are gonna get messy in a good way.
> 
> So what do you think? Any suggestions? Always happy to read you!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ho hey, first of all, I am SO glad most of you agree with Jon needing the distance from her. It's like the most logical reaction to me, to be honest. As always, thank you for all your comments, kudos and bookmarks!
> 
> Now the question is, will the kids let Jon take his distance from her and how long will he endure it? ;) We shall see. I’ve seen some concern about when Drogon is going to get in on the mission; he will play a part on it on his own way and before he even finds out about it.
> 
> I just ended this chapter so I apologize if there are mistakes, I tried to check it as many times as possible but well. Please lemme know what you think! :)
> 
> Nothing more else to say than; the devil works hard but the Targaryen-Stark team work harder :p

“No way.”

“Come on Arya, you’re the only one that can help us!”

Arya gave a simple shake of head, arms crossed over her chest as she stared down at her little brother and two of the Targaryen boys. She was not going to get into that; she wasn’t even sure she liked the idea of Daenerys Targaryen as Jon’s girlfriend, they didn’t exactly look a couple – even though she’d witnessed herself the jealousy in the Targaryen woman to watch her friend flirting with her brother. But now that the boys had told her that they wanted to get them closer, she remembered the way Jon would stare at Daenerys more than necessary, the softness filling his eyes to see her, his lips lifting up in shy smiles, never real ones, not yet.

How did she miss it?

She narrowed her eyes and pointed a finger to Rickon, his blue orbs growing as he swallowed hard. “You’re not telling me something that happened between them, spill it out,” she must have been a bit blind but there was no way two six years old and a preteen could have seen there was something going on between them by just the way they looked at each other. There had to be something else. “Rickon.” She warned, arching an eyebrow to his way.

“We just want them together,” Rhaegal intervened. She fixed her gaze on him as the child did nothing but hold her stare; this was one was stubborn as hell, nothing like the little blonde one right next to him. She waited for him to blink, to look away and give up, but she had to give him credit for it.

Not wanting to distress the boy, Arya was the first one that blinked and rested her back on the wall behind her. “I am not doing it. I’m not going to mess around with Jon’s life. Stay out of it, kids.”

“Please Arya,” Viserion begged, bringing his two small hands together and even forming a pout on his lips to buy her with his adorable face.

He was cute as hell and had been anyone else, they would have bought that. “Sorry kiddo but no.”

“We could have asked Sansa, but we chose you because we know you’ll keep the secret,” Rickon kept on, as if he had any chance in convincing her. “We’re not asking you to tell Jon to confess his feelings just to invite Daenerys to that bar you’re going tonight! It’s not that complicated!”

After much thinking, Rickon had remembered his brother and sisters were going to the bar a few blocks from there tonight; it was called The Hound’s, where Arya’s friend, Gendry, was going to play with his small band. He had seen in movies that bars were a perfect place for couples to get together so it was the perfect opportunity for Daenerys to go with them – but he couldn’t invite her since he wasn’t going, no matter how much he begged, Jon insisted it was for adults. It had to be one of his siblings; Jon was off the list and between his sisters, he had to pick Arya, knowing Sansa didn’t like Dany days ago and he wasn’t sure she was going to keep the secret for them. Arya was their only hope.

Jon and Arya were close, Rickon was hopeful that she’d help them right away, but he didn’t exactly think it through. One thing was for sure; his sister wasn’t the kind of girl that liked to gossip, so the secret was still safe even if she didn’t help them.

“We just want them together because it’d be amazing! Jon gets a girlfriend, our mama gets a boyfriend, and we get a step-daddy!” Rhaegal said with a huge grin, his green eyes shining.

 _Fuck_. Daenerys and Jon weren’t even dating and these kids were already imagining him as their step-daddy. Arya glared at Rickon, wanting to yell at him for letting them have such false hopes. She was starting to doubt about keeping their mission as a secret because this was too much; it was one thing liking Jon as their mother’s boyfriend and it was a whole different thing seeing him as a father figure. They’d end up heartbroken when they knew that they’d be coming back to Dragonstone once everything with the Free Folk was over.

“Listen up, kids. I will help…” all their three faces light up at that, but she held up her finger at them. “With one condition.” They looked at each other for a few seconds, as if considering it, before shrugging. “I invite Daenerys to the bar, and if nothing happens there with Jon, you give up on this idea of getting them together. I’m sure you can convince your mother in visiting us… a few more times when you’d like or to call Jon if you need him, because sometimes… people are not meant to be together,” Arya hated that it had to be her the one that was giving them this talk. She was not good with kids, but the Targaryen boys were good children, she didn’t want them to be hurt in the end. “Do you understand?”

Viserion looked over to his brother, seeking out for his opinion, but the other child seemed to be thoughtful about it. After a while, he looked up at her curiously. “But if something happens, do you promise to tell us?”

“Do you promise to drop the mission if I tell you nothing happened there?”

“Yes,” Rhaegal held out his little hand towards her, eyes determined, lifting his chin up. “Do you?”

Arya wanted to chuckle at how sure he was that something was going to happen, but at the same time she pitied him, not wanting his hopes to be crushed, but it’d happen eventually. She took his hand and shook it. “I do.”

**I**

Jon walked down the stairs just as Arya walked them up, a small smirk forming on her lips when they eyes locked. He was confused at first, but that didn’t last long as surprise replaced it to turn around to find Daenerys standing in the middle of the living room. He caught sight of his black leather jacket on her hand in a second, remembering that he’d wrapped Viserion on it right before taking him back to her last night.

There was insecurity in her purple eyes as she carefully watched him walk towards her. Jon opened his mouth to speak but he didn’t have time that she was already handing him the jacket; any hesitation that her gaze showed was suddenly off as she moved her head up to look him straight into his eyes.

“Thanks,” he muttered as he took it back. There was no one else around them, so it’d be the perfect time to talk about the reason he was going to head to her cabin. “I need to –”

Before he could even finish the sentence, she was already putting her hands up in some surrender position and shaking her head slightly. “I know I was beyond rude last night, but I was hoping that… _that_ wouldn’t interfere with the work we have to do together.”

“It won’t,” he assured her, narrowing his eyes at her sudden nervousness. He mentioned with his hand towards the couch and after showing a bit of confusion on her face, Daenerys walked around the single couch at the left and sat on it. He took a seat on the large one and cleared his throat. “I convinced Tormund, the Free Folk’s leader, into having a meeting tomorrow night. I don’t think we can fix it up, but I have to try. Are you coming?”

Daenerys gave it a thought; if the Free Folk were anything like what the Dothraki used to be, then there was no use in talking to them, but trying to make a deal to prevent the chaos coming would be something she would do, too. It made sense. She realized he was waiting for her answer, so she gave him a quick nod.

“Of course. A reasonable deal would be the best solution after all.”

Dany watched him staring at her with confliction showing off his eyes; she could see it in the way he leaned his back on the couch and went forward again, his fingers slightly moving and a small scowl drawing between his eyebrows. He was nervous about something… she wasn’t sure if it was her place to ask if there was something bothering him, but before she had the chance, he spoke up again.

“There’s something else you need to know if you’re going to be there. Tormund will probably think we’re together in a romantic way… and he’s going to be… as rude as he can be about it.”

She couldn’t see where this was going; it wouldn’t have surprised her that man would try to make sexist jokes about her. She was used to it and she could handle it on her own, but Jon seemed to be truly nervous about it. “He can think whatever he wants,” she smiled slightly at him to try to let him know it was okay, but there was some seriousness crossing his face that didn’t leave.

“You need to know the reason they’re coming to Winterfell,” Dany was a bit confused at that; she’d assumed they just randomly picked up Winterfell to attack, not that there was some specific reason behind it. Jon looked behind him and around the place, as if checking they were alone before focusing back on her. This had to be something really important that he didn’t want anyone to hear. “They’re coming to here because of me, because they want revenge on _me_.”

She wasn’t expecting that. She would have never thought that Jon could have anything to do with those people besides their upcoming attack on his townhome. “What?”

He took a deep breath and let it out before daring to gaze into her eyes again. “I was in the Free Folk gang before. After I left the Night’s Watch, I went beyond the Wall,” the Wall was the town in which the Night’s Watch University was located if she remembered Missandei’s information correctly and no one dared to go beyond that, knowing the Free Folk ruled the place over there. “Word had given to me that Bran and Rickon had escaped towards there so I had to go find them,” he continued explaining to see that she was not asking any questions. “Sir Davos and I had our differences with the Free Folk at first but… we moved on from it and I decided to join a group of them that was heading to the direction I was told my brothers were… even if I didn’t share their thoughts or actions.”

Dany nodded, knowing what it was like to go along with a group that you couldn’t disagree more with but that you couldn’t leave either given certain circumstances. “And at some time you fought with one of them,” she assumed.

Jon glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was there, but she knew that he didn’t have to worry about that. Her children and his little brother were at the cabin, it’d been Viserion the one that had insisted in that she should take the jacket back to Jon, so she thought that was only fair… and she wanted to speak with him about his previous attitude but she couldn’t bring herself to do that as she wanted. She wasn’t sure she could demand anything from him after telling him to leave her alone.

He looked forward again, not to her but to the ground. His silence was starting to make her believe she was wrong about her assumption.

“I fell in love with one of them,” Jon barely whispered. She couldn’t help her eyebrows rising up at it, for that had taken her back. That was definitely not something she would have ever imagined. “Her name was Ygritte,” he paused and she wasn’t sure she wanted to keep having this conversation. Not because it upset her, but because she recognized the agony in his voice; the same one that she would carry whenever Drogon would ask her about Drogo. It was something that clearly pained him to talk about and she knew she wasn’t worth that – she could imagine what had happened and she understood.

“You don’t have to –”

“You deserve it,” he cut her off, his eyes moving up to hers, reflecting the hurt he was holding inside. “Even if you brought your security with you, you’ve risked your own safety and your children for this. You deserve to know what happened.”

“Jon…” she tried to insist, because really, that was not necessary.

“No one could know we were together because apparently they have a rule that they can’t date anyone out of their gang… but some of them suspected it and so then they didn’t fully trust in me. One day we took a road that I convinced them into taking because I was told Bran and Rickon were seen near… but the Rangers showed up. You can call them the Wall’s police. They attacked us and we managed to escape. There were many injured people but only one of them died,” he didn’t say the name and she didn’t need him to. “They think I sold them to the Rangers and they blame me for her death. I did not sell them, that’s not true, as for… her death…”

Dany narrowed her eyes, knowing what he was trying to say. “I’m sure you’re not to blame for her death. You didn’t sell them to the Rangers – you couldn’t have known what was going to happen.”

“I convinced them into taking that road and if it hadn’t been for her showing she supported me on that decision, we wouldn’t have gone that way.”

“It’s not your fault,” she made sure to raise her voice if only a bit, wanting him to believe it, wanting to take that guilt off of him. “You wanting to go that road could have been a mistake but that doesn’t mean that –”

“That mistake got her killed, that’s enough for me.”

Daenerys was silent at that, feeling as if she was listening to her own words many years ago. She had been there but she came out of it, for her children. Drogo had been in a fight once and he had gotten a cut, he told her that it was nothing, but she insisted for someone to heal it or else it’d get infected. A woman that she’d just demanded to not be harmed offered her services for she’d been a nurse. Drogo and his gang had fought another gang just before and since they won, they could do whatever they wanted with the women of the gang, but she wanted to protect them and so she did.

One of Drogo’s friends got mad and fought him for it, even insulted her and spat at him. Drogo took him down in not less than five minutes, but there was a huge cut on his shoulder that didn’t look good.

Dany should have listened to him… but instead, she convinced him into letting the woman heal his wound.  The woman did nothing of the like. She was sure she only infected the cut more… which got him hospitalized in less than a day for the high temperature and convulsions he had. The doctors had told her that his brain was dead four days later, if not for the machines, he wouldn’t be alive. Could she even say he was alive at the moment?

It was the distress over it which made her gave birth early to Rhaego. After finding out her baby had never gotten the chance to breathe in the world, she felt empty, with no hope of anything, not even for Drogo to get better. She had to let him go – he’d be with their child after all, look after him like she couldn’t do. She knew he wouldn’t want to be like that.

She’d put a pillow on his face and ended that agony.

“Are you okay?”

Daenerys’ head snapped towards him to find his worried eyes searching for something in her face. She blinked and notice then how watery her eyes had gotten. She brought a closed fist to them as she cursed herself inside; how could she get this emotional in front of him? Damn her.

“I made the mistake of trusting in someone once and that cost my husband’s life…” _and eventually, my baby’s, too,_ but she couldn’t bring herself to say it or else she’d end up in a sea of tears right in front of Jon. “It took me time to see it and accept it, but I realized that even if my mistake lead to that, I had the best intentions and I couldn’t control whatever was going to happen. And if it happened, it happened because there had to be some purpose, as painful as it was.”

Hadn’t Drogo died, she would have never gotten to raise her three beautiful boys. Even if she still found them in that dark valley, Daenerys knew Drogo wouldn’t have allowed her to keep them. He’d been delighted to know they were going to have a son, but that was because Rhaego was his own flesh. The Dothraki didn’t accept children that weren’t their own to raise.

She didn’t want to find a purpose in Rhaego’s death, though. Even if she wasn’t sure that she could have found her three sons had he lived. But Daenerys firmly believed that she and her children were meant to be together – she would have still found her way to them and she would have raised them along with Rhaego. Her four little dragons.

“Thank you,” Jon’s soft voice said after a moment, bringing her back from her daydreaming.

His lips were a bit lifted up which made her give him a small smile, glad that her words could comfort him in some way. “When did all this happen?” She wanted her head to focus back on the topic that mattered.

“Three years ago.”

“Why would they be doing this now?”

“They must have found out Winterfell is back in my family’s hands.”

Dany sighed. “So this is personal. Do you really believe we can make a deal with them?”

He frowned at her. “I don’t want _you_ to make any deal with them. You’re already too much involved.”

She arched an eyebrow to him, “You don’t think I’m smart enough to make a deal with them?”

Jon’s eyes grew wild as he parted his lips in a bit of shock. “No, I didn’t mean –”

Daenerys chuckled. “I’m joking, Jon.” The surprise faded away from his expression, his lips moving up for a moment as she could see some light in his dark stare. But soon that was gone; a stern look taking over it, as her own smile slowly disappeared to see he must have remembered he was angry at her. “I’ve dealt with people like them before, but I won’t intervene unless necessary. You have my word.”

“Good,” he nodded to her and stood up, taking the black jacket along. “Thanks for bringing it back.”

She gave him a polite smile and watched him walk away towards the stairs. Dany sighed and got up; ready to go back to the cabin and tell Missandei they were going to a bar Arya invited her to at night. She wasn’t expecting the invitation from the Stark girl but now that she thought about it, taking some fresh air and exploring this town’s places wouldn’t be so bad. She needed to clear her thoughts.

**II**

Daenerys loved playing with her children as much as she could.

She realized only now that she hadn’t had much playing with them before, not like these days they were at Winterfell. She didn’t have any meetings to attend here, she didn’t have to worry about the trial knowing Tyrion was taking care of everything until the time came for it – it was practically a holiday that she enjoyed very much… though she didn’t forget there was a danger coming.

She smiled at Viserion when he finished putting the crown of flowers he had made for her on her head. He held up a mirror in front of her face and she admired the good job her son had made with the small white flowers. It looked beautiful.

Dany got up and looked around to see the two branches that Rhaegal had stuck to the ground to make it look like some kind of altar. Apparently, Rickon needed to get a wedding footage for his theatre class and he had sweetly asked her to help him, even trying to work his charming ways on her by telling her there would be no prettier bride than her.

They were at the back of the cabin, Missandei was inside it preparing the dinner that soon they’d be eating. Doreah had run off with Irri to their apartment across the street to find something to wear since she was coming with her and Missy to the bar.

She wasn’t in a white dress, the weather wouldn’t allow it. But she did have her largest white coat on and now a crown of flowers adorned her head.

“You look so pretty mama!” Viserion happily clapped, proud of his own work.

Drogon snorted next to her. “Why can’t we play war?”

Dany smiled and fixed his messy black hair as she got up from the snowed ground. “Because Rickon needs a wedding, not a war.” Since Drogon had to appear to be in a suit, she put a black coat above his white shirt, matching his black jeans. He looked too adorable, even though he hated this ‘girly’ play his brothers were forcing him in.

Rhaegal jumped in front of her, arms wide open as he showed her how one of her white dresses looked on him. She chuckled and nodded at the supposed to be little priest. “You look amazing, sweetling.”

“I made the rings too!” Viserion opened his palm and showed her two rings made of branches. He was the one supposed to carry the rings up to the ‘altar’, looking very handsome in a sweater and jeans that matched the cream color of his hair.

“Where’s Rickon? He’s taking forever!” Drogon complained.

 “Well, a bridegroom needs time to get ready,” his mother told him.

“Actually…” Rhaegal gave her that grin that he’d always use whenever he had to confess some prank he just made. “Rickon is not the bridegroom.”

Daenerys frowned. Then who could – oh no. They did not.

Rickon appeared in sight, dragging Jon along with him. She saw just in time as realization hit the man’s face and before he could let go of the boy’s grip, they were already in front of her.

“Rickon, this doesn’t look like homework,” was the first thing that came out from Jon’s mouth, almost trying to avoid looking at her.

“It is! It’s for the theater class. I need a wedding footage. It won’t last long, Jon, I promise! Now come on, before it gets all dark!”

Jon felt as Rickon pushed him towards Daenerys, almost making him fall on her, leaving him inches away from her. He swallowed and quickly took a step back, suddenly hating his little brother for making him do this. He hadn’t understood at first his request for him to get his hair made up and wear black jeans, a white shirt and a black coat, telling him it was necessary for homework or else he’d fail his class and he was already behind his classmates. Jon was starting to consider letting him fail this class.

“I didn’t know you were going to be the bridegroom,” Daenerys whispered with a nervous smile drawn on her face.

She looked stunning in that white coat that reached her knees; with the crown of white flowers decorating her head and even a flush of pink on her cheeks that Jon wasn’t sure it was either makeup or her own coloring to be exposed at the cold. Her purple eyes outshined in contrast to all the white she was wearing and he felt as if they trying to capture him in.

“Come on guys put on position!”

Viserion took his hand and Daenerys’ and lead them towards two huge branches that were stuck on the ground, Rhaegal behind it as an apparent priest. Jon opened his mouth to protest and refuse to participate in this, but the light and amused smile on Daenerys’ face was enough for him to fall silent, suddenly feeling guilty if he was to stop this.

He looked down to Daenerys’ right side, seeing little Drogon staring at him with a scowl on face, Viserion running away from them just a few meters as Rickon stood in the middle of what had to be some path they created.

“Now, since the footage can’t last long, it’ll start with Viserion already taking the rings to you two. When I say action, you start walking Viserion, got it?”

The blonde child nodded excitedly, holding what he thought were two rings in his hands. Jon wanted to curse under his breath; why had it to be him and Daenerys? He was starting to truly believe that the children had something going on with them – but he shook those thoughts away, for that was impossible. They were just kids – they couldn’t be up to anything.

His eyes shifted from the children to the woman just in front of him; she appeared to be as nervous as he was about this. “Sorry my brother dragged you into this,” he whispered low enough for only her to hear.

She gave him a gentle smile with a slightly shake of head. “It’s no problem… anything for the children’s education, isn’t it?”

“He better show me the paper that says he had to do this.”

A giggle came out from her lips which made his own tug in a smile, there was something angelical about it he couldn’t help but adore. Rickon’s voice yelled ‘action’ in the distance, but he kept his gaze on her breathtaking profile as she watched her child walk up to them. He wasn’t as mad as he had been that morning, not after the advice she gave to him, even opening up to him about what happened to her deceased husband. She could understand his pain and he was sure she took the hint of him not wanting her to include him into things with her children, but this wasn’t something she asked for. He had seen the clear surprise on her face to see him with Rickon just seconds ago.

Daenerys looked back at him, which made him blink and move his eyes down; noticing Viserion had gotten to them, extending his two hands up to him for him to take the ring. He bit his lip and took one, trying to ignore the camera Rickon was holding a few meters from them; he wanted to kill his little brother for making him do this.

But he was unsure about to do, was even there a script to this? Jon looked at Dany for guidance but she looked to be as lost as him. Rhaegal cleared his throat in front of them, glaring from the rings to them, as if waiting for something.

“You have to put the rings on,” he whispered a bit frustrated.

 _Thank god._ Jon was truly going to stop it all if he had to say some vows before putting the rings on. The kids didn’t know much of weddings; that was good. He couldn’t come up with words to say to her when he should have used them instead of kissing her, and if he was nervous back then, he couldn’t even describe it now, even if this was just a game, his mind was as blank as a paper.

Jon took the smallest ring and waited for Daenerys to lift her hand up; he took it and was surprise to find how warm and smooth it was. He had to suppress a smile as he put the ring on her index finger and looked up at her.

Daenerys seemed to be taking this better than him even if she was nervous. She took the ring and searched for his hand to move it up herself; her purple eyes didn’t look away from him, they didn’t even blink as she put the ring on his finger.

“Now, Jon Snow… you may kiss the bride.”

“What?!” Drogon expressed out loud his exactly thoughts.

“It’s not a wedding without a kiss!” Rhaegal explained in a whisper between gritted teeth, frowning at his brother.

Jon heard what he recognized as Viserion’s giggle next to him and saw the grin on Rickon’s face behind the camera. He was not going to kiss her, were they insane?

But he froze when he noticed Daenerys was taking the initiative by approaching towards him. He didn’t breathe, didn’t blink, only stared as she moved closer to his face, inches away from his mouth – what was she going to do? Did she lose her m –

A smirk showed on Daenerys’ lips as she moved her head to the side and placed a soft kiss on his right cheek before taking a step back; giving him the most teasing smile he’d ever seen on her. He was sure his heart must have stopped for a moment.

“That’s it!”

“That was amazing, I love acting!” Rhaegal happily said.

Jon watched as his little brother came up to them to hug Daenerys. “Thank you, Dany; I’m going to get the best grade!”

“You’re welcome,” she said rubbing the boy’s back.

Rhaegal ran towards the Stark boy, jumping in excitement. “I wanna watch how it came out!”

Rickon and the three boys moved aside for him to show them the wedding footage. Daenerys looked at him with a smile but he didn’t see the fun in all this; why was she doing this to him? She didn’t look to want to play with him that afternoon when she told him some deep things about her life, so what was she trying to do?

“You’re a good actress,” she must have known what he meant, for the smile slowly fell from her lips. She was good at it; acting like she even liked him in the first place, looking at him with loving eyes. He didn’t want to keep up with this farce anymore so he turned around and walked away, glad that the children were busying themselves with something else and not asking him to stay.

Jon really needed to get to that bar tonight to distract himself from her.


	10. Chapter 10

Daenerys adjusted her black beanie to her head, unsure that it covered all her hair even if Missandei had reassured her that it did. She had told Sir Jorah and the three Dothraki that had come with her that they shouldn’t be near her or else they’d suspect she was, in fact, Daenerys Targaryen, and she just wanted to have a quiet night, not one in which she’d feel all eyes on her, judging her, questioning her. It’d be better this way.

She had been two minutes inside the pub, near the bar when she caught sight of the Stark sisters in the other corner of the place. Sansa was undoubtedly recognizable with her long, auburn hair all over her back with her younger sister at her side, both of them talking to the boy she’d seen with Arya at the party the previous night. Gendry, if she remembered correctly.

She was worried for a moment that Jon was here too, but there was no sign of him so far, which was good.

Missy was already ordering drinks for the three of them, even though Dany wasn’t paying attention to it and instead looking everywhere to inspect the place; it was full of people, but not enough to be such a crowd where you couldn’t breathe. Doreah had taken her to one like that before and they left no more than five minutes of being in.

Doreah. Daenerys frowned as she looked at the direction her friend had gone, wanting to find the bathroom. She’d been gone for long minutes by now… should she go looking for her?

“Doreah hasn’t come back yet,” she commented to her brunette friend next to her.

Missy shrugged, a smirk rising in her lips as she brought the martini to her lips. “It wouldn’t surprise me to find her chasing after a man already.”

Dany chuckled as she drank a sip of her own martini, liking the air of this place. The music wasn’t too loud and everyone was minding their own business, though she could feel the fuss that was hanging around the Stark girls; now that she had sat on a highchair in the bar she could see they were in the VIP part of the pub. It made sense; they were the nieces of the mayor of the town and the most famous family of it, too.

No one had recognized her so far, so Dany wasn’t in a hurry to be in the VIP spot. As much as she liked the idea of Jon not being around, she wondered why he wasn’t there – maybe he didn’t like going out so much. That would be something they both shared, for she was only doing this because she needed to stop thinking about him for a moment – which she was doing right now.

Daenerys sighed in frustrating and took a sip of her drink as Doreah appeared next to her, frowning at her choice of cocktail.

“A martini? That will do nothing to us, khaleesi.”

Dany didn’t know what she was expecting from her; she wasn’t a teenager that was about to get drunk out of her ass in a pub of a town she didn’t even know. She opened her mouth to ask her what she proposed but closed it to see Doreah drinking in one shot all her martini.

“Doreah, you can’t just drink it all in one sip!” Dany exclaimed, sounding very much like a mother, but sometimes that was what Doreah and Irri needed. A headache was going to start to form at the idea of her and Missy carrying their drunk friend into her apartment.

“Better end it now so I can get what I truly want.”

Dany shared a look with Missy as Doreah ordered for three tequilas. She wasn’t used to going out in the night with her friends, she always liked more staying home with her children, but she’d heard stories from Irri that Doreah liked alcohol too much. She was a grown woman; Daenerys wasn’t going to intervene unless it’d be too much.

“Missy!”

They turned around to the sound of Sansa’s squeal; the redhead girl walking up to them with a smile Dany had never seen on her face. She wondered how many drinks she had on her.

“Oh, Daenerys, I almost didn’t recognize you!” Dany became a bit tense to her almost screaming her name; she looked around them to be sure that no one had heard her. “You shouldn’t be here; you should be with us in our place!”

Daenerys tried to give her a small smile as she shook her head, “That’s not –”

“Nonsense. Arya invited you so come with us.”

“Not before taking this tequila shot, khaleesi!” Doreah put the small glass in front of her along with the lemon and salt.

“Doreah, I am not –”

Sansa arched an eyebrow to her, the goofy smile suddenly off of her face. “So you don’t drink much?”

It was true that the oldest Stark girl had treated her a lot better than she did in the first days, but there was always something bitter in her voice when she talked to her – and Dany didn’t like at all the tone of it, asking her that like she was some child that didn’t know anything about drinks.

The corners of Daenerys’ mouth raised into a fake smirk towards the girl. “No, I don’t drink much, but this is nothing for me.”

She did it all quickly to get it over with and only made a face when the alcohol made its way through her throat, burning it. Doreah cheered for her as she put the small glass on the bar, knowing this would be all the alcohol she’d be getting in the night. Missy and Doreah did it next before they jumped from the chairs to follow Sansa into the VIP corner.

Turned out, the VIP spot was much bigger than she thought, though Sansa and Arya placed themselves in the first small table and couches of the entrance. She could see more couches and tables in its deep and people that were there, but it was dark, so she couldn’t recognize their faces. Not that she cared.

“Daenerys? Is that you?” Arya arched an eyebrow to her, looking at her up and down, a playful smirk drawing in her lips.

Dany hugged herself as she cursed Doreah and Missandei inside. They had insisted that if she wanted to be truly unnoticed, she had to dress the way girls her age dressed for pubs. As much as she protested, they had a point. So she let them choose the white crop top and the black leather jean that was high to her waist but she did choose the black and comfy jacket she was wearing, despite her friends’ complaints.

“I didn’t want to be recognizable,” she explained to her as she sat on a corner of the couch, seeing as a waitress placed a tray with too many drinks for her liking.

Sansa and Doreah were the first ones to pick them, as Arya frowned and put a hand on her big sister’s arm. “Sansa, I think that’s enough for you.”

The redhead scoffed at her. “Shut up, you’re seventeen; you’re not even supposed to be here.”

Arya rolled her eyes, hands up. “Whatever. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Daenerys couldn’t have imagined Sansa had it in her to drink alcohol as much as she wanted, always being polite and correct, trying to give her the best image of the Starks. Yet, she couldn’t blame her for wanting to drown in the alcohol, knowing her life had been a hell before reuniting with her siblings after many years. But since she wasn’t listening to Arya already and Jon wasn’t here, she wondered if there was going to be a moment in which she’d have to stop her herself. She knew little of Sansa Stark, but for what she knew by now, it was certain she was going to regret it the next day.

“So your friend… he’s already played?”

“Oh, yeah,” the youngest girl there nodded. “He must be somewhere there with –”

“Fuck!” they both turned towards Sansa to see she had poured her drink on her black jeans. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

Arya rested her back on the couch. “I’m not going with you. I warned you.”

“We’ll go with you,” Missy offered, taking hold of her hand and already getting up, dragging her along with her.

**I**

Jon needed the fresh, cold air. He was grateful for the outdoors place the pub had in its back and for it being empty, except for the girl in one of the corners apparently checking something on her phone. He looked up at the stars that outshined in the dark sky, taking a sip of his beer. He had come here to clear his thoughts since nothing was working inside. Not the drinks, not the girls that were trying to be close to him.

Daenerys was still in his mind, with the crown of flowers and lovely purple gaze staring back at him. He had enough when he thought he saw her face inside the pub, near the table that Sansa and Arya were supposed to be. He knew there was no way she could be there so he knew he had to get out of there.

Sam had told him that he needed to talk to her to know what was going inside her head if what he said about her acting harsh and cold one day and acting all nice the other was true. He said that there had to be an explanation. Gendry, on the other hand, told him to get her out of his head once and for all and focus on all the girls he had making line for him.

That was stupid. All those women wanted to be with the _King in the North_ , not with him. He wasn’t naïve – he knew all they cared about was the title the people had given him, that he was _now_ someone important in the Stark family. He’d always been there but no one had noticed him before, not until a few months ago.

But having a few drinks with friends wasn’t helping to stop trying to think about Daenerys and what she could want from him… so he was starting to think Gendry may not be wrong.

He was not going to sleep with someone he didn’t know, that was not him, but he should start looking for someone to distract himself. He had talked to a few women throughout the night already, but they wouldn’t stop talking nonsense; if they didn’t speak all about themselves, they’d want to know what being the popular King in the North was like.

Jon eyed the girl in the corner; she didn’t seem to notice his presence as she kept staring at her phone on her hand. He narrowed his eyes, having a feeling he’d seen that profile somewhere before, but not being sure where. The girl – no, woman – turned to the other side, giving her back towards him.

He was horrible at trying to start a conversation, but he had to try. He could use just some random chatting to clear his mind.

Jon walked a few steps towards her and looked behind him, seeing no one was there but them, he didn’t want to freak her out so he cleared his throat first, “It’s cold, huh?” He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling too stupid to try to start a conversation with a woman by speaking of the weather. He needed some lessons from Sansa.

He waited for the woman’s response, but nothing came, instead her shoulders seemed to tense as she straightened her posture, and he could swear he saw some silver-blonde hair sticking out from under the black beanie she had covering her head.

The woman turned around as he was met with Daenerys’ purple eyes.

Was this a joke?

“What are you doing here?” Both of them said in unison.

Jon drew his eyebrows together. “I’m here with my sisters for our friend’s band… why are _you_ here?”

Daenerys swallowed hard and blinked once before shrugging, even though he noticed how nervous she was. “Arya invited me. I just didn’t think…”

“That I would be here?” So she wanted to avoid him that much, that was just _wonderful_. “Well this is the most famous pub of my town, my sisters are here, and my friend plays a band here, why wouldn’t I be here?” He realized too late how harsh he was, but he was angry; he wasn’t sure if he was angry at her or at the whole situation that he had come here just for one reason and that reason was standing in front of him, looking as puzzled as him. “I was the one that didn’t think you’d be here.”

Daenerys seemed to take the harsh of his tone in the wrong way as her eyebrows came in together in that way he had come to know showed she was upset. “Well, I’m allowed to go out at night with my friends and your sister happened to invited me, it’s not my fault you didn’t want to see me here.”

“I never said…” he shook his head, wanting to kill his sister for not even telling him she was coming. “You know what, forget it. I didn’t see you, you didn’t see me.”

She opened her mouth and closed it again, like she’d been offended by what he just said. “I, well… _fine_ ,” she almost spat out to him before walking past him to get in the ladies toilet and slam the door shut behind her.

Jon snorted in frustration and walked inside the pub, pushing through the people to get to the VIP place and straight to the table he knew his sisters were on. There was just Arya, Doreah and Gendry; the brunette girl’s face lit up to see him though he kept his stare on his sister as he sat next to her.

“Did you invite Daenerys?”

Arya grimaced, taking a sip of that one beer Jon had allowed her to. “I thought she’d like to explore some of Winterfell’s places… why? You didn’t want her here?”

“You could have told me.”

“Why?”

“Because…” he wanted to tell her, he trusted in Arya and everything would have been easier if she knew, but he felt Doreah’s eyes on him and knew that this wasn’t the place. “Because it’s Daenerys and we’re in part responsible for her security.”

His sister rolled her eyes. “Ah, come on Jon, you’re not her bodyguard, she has like four of them here even though we can’t see them. She’s fine.” He sighed and looked forward, seeing Sansa, Daenerys and Missandei walking towards them. “Or did something else happen between you two?”

He didn’t answer her as he got up as soon as the girls reached their table. Daenerys held his gaze, showing she was upset about all this like he was and didn’t even move till he turned around and walked away, back towards where his friends were. He glanced over his shoulder to see she kept her eyes on him as Missandei said something to her.

Jon groaned, being ready for another beer. He couldn’t believe his luck.

**II**

Daenerys’ nails kept hitting the table again and again. She tried her best to stop her eyes from going to the table that Jon was sitting with his friends but she couldn’t help it, only stopping for long minutes when he’d catch her staring, though she had to admit she had caught him staring towards her way too, but she couldn’t say it was for her since his sisters were with her too. It’d be reasonable for him to be looking from time to time to their table.

She wasn’t even paying attention to what she was drinking anymore but had to do something with her hands so she kept moving the glass to her lips. Her head kept coming back to Jon’s shocked and frustrated face to see her; like he was truly annoyed she was there. He didn’t want to see her, at all. She didn’t want to see him but just because she wouldn’t stop thinking about him, but did he dislike her that much now that he couldn’t even stand to be in her presence?

“You should go talk to him.”

Dany looked at her friend, frowning as she shook her head. “I am not. He made it clear he doesn’t want to see me.”

Missy chuckled for a moment before her lips were sealed to see the death-glare Daenerys sent her. “So that’s why you keep staring at each other?”

“I’m not staring,” she whispered to her, as if Arya, Sansa and Doreah were paying any attention to their conversation. “He told me to pretend that I didn’t see him as he would.”

“Then neither of you are doing that,” the brunette shrugged as she took a sip of her martini. “You should go tell him what you feel, Dany, you can’t keep trying to ignore it.”

She let out a humorless chuckle. “You should have seen his face when he saw me. He acts like he hates me.”

“You don’t know that, maybe he was just surprised… maybe he’s here for the same reason you are here.”

Dany looked at her out of the corner of her eye, trying to sound casual. “And what is that?”

“Do I need to say it?” She looked at her as Missy raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t have to tell me anything, I know you and I know you wanted to… distract yourself to stop thinking about him. What if he’s trying to do the same?”

“He dislikes me,” Dany stated, trying to keep her voice clear. She wasn’t drunk but she had to admit the alcohol was starting to show its effects. “I hurt him by what I did and now he wants nothing to do with me. That’s what he’s trying to do. And I don’t want to speak about him again.”

Missy shrugged as she looked around them, frowning slightly. “Where are the girls?” Arya was near the table talking to Gendry and Hot Pie, she told her his nickname was, but Sansa and their friend were nowhere to be seen – until their eyes moved towards the bar and saw them ordering more drinks. Missandei sighed and stood up. “I’m going to stop them, I’ll be right back.”

Dany looked over her shoulder for a moment as her mouth dropped half opened to see Jon not talking to one girl, but two, giving them a wide smile. She clenched her teeth and looked away, knowing this had to be the alcohol trying to make her snap – she had to control herself. What he did was none of her business.

But two girls? He was laughing and flirting with two girls meanwhile they were looking after his sister that kept drinking and drinking and he did nothing. That wasn’t any of her business either, but someone had to stop Sansa from getting any drunker and doing a scene in the pub that she’d regret very much.

Daenerys stood up and stormed off towards his table, not even caring for the beanie that almost fell from her head. She put it back on but let her silver-blonde hair fall on her shoulders – there would be no mistaking in who she was now, but she didn’t care.

She saw as Jon’s dark eyes widened a bit to see her getting to him and his… companions. She looked at them up and down before focusing on him, arching an eyebrow to his way. “I’m sorry for interrupting your… fun chatting,” she gave a fake smirk to the two blonde girls that were wide-eyed to see who she was. They had to be younger than her, maybe Sansa’s age. “But are you going to do something about your sister or are you too busy for it?”

The baffled expression on his face only angered her more. “Excuse me?”

“Looks like you’ve been truly busy to not see in what state your sister is.”

“I see what state you are in.” Daenerys opened her mouth and crossed her arms over her chest, ready to snap back hadn’t he moved his eyes from her to the two girls at his side. “Can you guys give us a moment?” The girls didn’t doubt to get out of there as soon as possible and she frowned to see the way his gaze changed when he looked back at her. “What the hell was that?”

“How do you dare say I’m in some state? I’m not drunk!” She was quick to explode, feeling the heat rising to her face, not sure if it was from embarrassment or the alcohol. “Your sister is and you’re here flirting with half the pub!”

He dared to laugh at her words. “Half the pub? I wasn't flirting, I was just speaking to two girls… but I don’t own you any explanation. As for Sansa, I will make sure she’s alright, thank you for your concern, I didn’t know you cared that much about her.”

Daenerys bit the inside of her cheek and spun around, walking back to her table, already feeling all the eyes on her as she walked through them. She sat down on the large couch and watched as Jon appeared in sight right behind her, taking a glass from Sansa’s hand.

“Stop drinking, Sansa,” his hoarse voice ordered, placing the glass on the table and away from his sister. “You’re abusing that the Hound is our friend, stop it.”

“Jon, I’m nineteen, I can do whatever –”

“Not if you’re with me,” he cut her off and sat across them, making it clear he wasn’t going to let her drink anymore under his watch. “Or we can leave right now; I don’t have a problem with that.”

“I’m not five, Jon! And you’re not Father, so stop trying to act like it!”

“But I’m your big brother so you will –”

“You want to protect me now but where were you when I truly needed you?” She spat out to him and before he could say anything else, she got up and walked away.

There was some awkward silence in the place before Missandei got up and gestured towards where the girl ran off. “I’ll go make sure she’s okay.”

As soon as Missy left, Doreah switched seats and placed herself right next to Jon to start talking to him as Daenerys had to roll her eyes and look away, remembering this was her friend and she couldn’t be angry with her… and she had no rights to be angry, why would she be angry? That would be stupid.

Dany took a sip of a drink that was supposed to be Missy’s and tried her best to not pay attention to their conversation… though she could hear Doreah’s compliments to his hair and muscles, asking him if he came here often, and with every question she seemed to get closer to him.

She was not going to watch and hear this any longer, so without saying a word, and knowing they didn’t care anyway, Dany got up and left to the bathroom. There were two doors for toilets inside the room but she stood in front of the mirror, taking her phone out to see that there weren’t any more messages from Irri. Her children stayed with her in the cabin; they should be all asleep by this hour already.

She had to admit that she was jealous – she’d been jealous of Jon with those two girls and now with Doreah, she couldn’t stand seeing him with another woman, but there was nothing that she could do about it. She liked him, she liked him _a lot_ , there was no use in denying it anymore. But she’d been stupid; she had the chance to do something about it and instead ruined it for not being able to control her feelings before snapping.

If she could go back to that kiss, she’d make things different. But what was done was done and she had to keep in mind that she’d be there for a few more days and then she’d be back at home, without him. She was going to forget him soon enough.

Dany sighed and washed her hands before getting out of the bathroom and coming back to the table to find Sansa, Missy and Arya there, but not Doreah or Jon.

“Where’s… Doreah?” she managed to ask.

“She needed some fresh air so she went to get it,” Arya commented as casual as possible. “With Jon.”

Missy was looking at her with pity eyes because _of course_ they didn’t go out for some fresh air, not if she knew her friend as much as she did. Daenerys was the one that needed the fresh air so she left towards the opposite direction from the bathroom, ignoring Missandei’s voice calling out for her, trying to find the exit back door.

Once she found it, she walked through it without a second thought, but stopped dead to find them there, their lips inches away; she wasn’t sure if she just walked in on them about to kiss or if they had already done it, either way she stood there paralyzed, not knowing what to do or say.

Doreah had a playful smirk on her face, with her arms around Jon’s neck, hugging him tightly as he looked at her with shock.

“I – uh – I’m…”

She had to get out of there before she embarrassed herself in front of him. Daenerys walked back inside and took a deep breath, not knowing where to head. She knew something was wrong when she felt the tears starting to sting in her eyes. Not wanting to let them out right in front of everyone, she started walking fast through the people, knowing she couldn’t go to the girls’ table, for Missy was there but so the Stark sisters and she didn’t want them to see her in this state.

So she found herself back in the ladies toilet, staring at her reflection in the mirror, seeing as more water started to blurry her vision. Damn alcohol – she knew she wouldn’t be this bloody mess hadn’t she had that much of drinks. She was not drunk but she had more alcohol than she intended.

Damn her. Damn Doreah. Damn Jon Snow.

“Daenerys?”

Dany jumped at the sound of Jon’s voice and quickly wiped away the tears that were about to leave her eyes when she saw him standing behind him. She forgot this was the pub’s bathroom and anyone could get in, anyone but him.

“What are you doing here?” she walked away from him, as much as she could in the small room. “This is the ladies –”

“I don’t care, Doreah and I didn’t…” he narrowed his eyes, taking a step closer to her as she walked backwards. “Are you crying?”

“No!” She yelled, folding her arms over her chest, trying to look as serious as possible. “Why would I be crying? Because you and my friend were kissing? I’m not twelve, Jon – and what you do is not important to me.”

There was the same hint of pain Dany had seen before when she screamed horrible things at his face. He scoffed with a slightly shake of head, muttering a “Why do I even bother?” to himself before turning around to open the door.

“I’m sorry!” She let out before he opened it, knowing she was doing the exact same thing she was regretting moments ago. Jon stayed in his place, the scowl still on his face as he looked back at her. “Yes, I am crying. I’m crying because how stupid I was for treating you like trash before, for how I freaked out when you kissed me because I wasn’t ready to feel so much with that simple kiss. I got scared and I blamed you for it, I’m sorry. You are important to me, but I know it’s too late now; you can’t even stand to be in my presence. That’s why I’m crying…” she didn’t notice the big, hot tears streaming down her face until she wiped them from her wet cheeks. He was astonished, to say the least, looking at her with his wide, dark eyes and full lips parted, not even daring to blink. “And because of the alcohol, probably,” she decided to avoid his gaze and look down at the floor, the embarrassment settling in after realizing all she’d said. “So please forget everything I said.”

“I don’t want to forget it.”

Dany frowned confused and looked up at him, seeing the familiar softness in his eyes as the corners of his lips lifted up slightly. “What?”

Jon walked closer to her, his hand reaching out slowly, like he was waiting for her to stop him, but she didn’t say anything as he cupped her face with his hands and she smiled slightly to feel his thumbs gently caressing her skin, wiping away the tears that were left.

“I’m done trying to forget about you, Daenerys Targaryen,” he gave her a smile, one that did reach his eyes, and leant in closer to her before whispering, “will you slap me if I kiss you now?”

The playfulness of his eyes made her smile grow wider as she took hold of his jacket and yanked him to her, catching his lips between hers, tasting the beer on them, melting into its softness like she couldn’t do before, letting his tongue in as she parted her lips more with a slow moan. His hands held on to the sides of her waist, pulling her body against his as she encircled his neck with her arms, not wanting to let go of anything of him.

The door suddenly opened followed by a, “Shit. Fuck. I mean –” they broke apart as quickly as possible, even though Jon kept his arm around her waist, holding her against his body to see that it was just his youngest sister. “I didn’t see anything,” the red was clear on Arya’s face as she kept babbling, “I pro – no, just… sorry.”

Arya closed the door quickly behind her, not before hearing their giggles to her reaction. She closed her eyes and sighed; she shouldn’t have seen anything, now she was going to have to tell the boys what she promised she’d tell.

It looked like their Dragon-Wolf mission was not ending any time soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooooo. After all the misunderstandings between them, here they are.
> 
> Sorry for the delay but I didn't have any free time to write - college is back and so my free time is gone. I'll update as much as I can, but just so you know.
> 
> I'm sure no one will be happier than the Targaryen-Stark team with this end, those boys need a rise in toys and videogames lol.
> 
> Please let me know what you think as I'm always happy to see your response :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyyyy. A bit late in the day but here I am at last.
> 
> Thank you for all your support on this story, so happy for the new people coming around and liking the story.
> 
> So. Here comes something many have been waiting and I've been also waiting to write; it's time for my boy Drogon to shine! :)
> 
> Lemme know what you think and if you have any ideas you'd like to share ;)

“What are we going to do now?”

Jon looked at her confused and she couldn’t blame him; there wasn’t just one thing that that they should discuss but many. Dany was referring to one in particular at the moment; she didn’t want to think about all the others, not yet.

“Doreah,” she clarified, remembering what she’d seen. She knew Doreah didn’t have feelings for Jon or else she would have said something; she just happened to find him hot and wanted to sleep with him but it was still awkward that her friend was between them. “Did you…”

“No. We didn’t even kiss because you showed up and I went after you. I think she’s upset I left her there but… I always tried to avoid her; I don’t feel anything for her.”

Daenerys wanted to smile at his words, knowing he felt something for her. Nonetheless, the image of Doreah’s arms tangled around his neck made her step back as his hands lost the grip they had on her waist.

“Jon, you were going to kiss her and who knows what else, I don’t take you as a man that is willing to be with someone just because.”

His dark eyebrows drew in together for a few seconds before a weak smile formed on his lips. “You still don’t understand, do you?” She arched an eyebrow to whatever he meant. “I was trying to get you out of my mind, Daenerys. I know it wasn’t going to be the most… decent way but I didn’t know what else to do. I’m not sure it could have gone further than that, though.” He stepped closer and reached out to take her hands between his. “I tried stop thinking about you, I tried acting cold towards you, I tried being with another person to forget you and nothing worked.”

The curve of her lips lifted up. “I’m glad nothing worked. But I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just…”

“You freaked out,” she was surprised at how quick he was to understand something she had so much trouble in getting. “It’s okay. I wish you would have told me so instead of the slap but…”

She rolled her eyes at the playful smirk on his face, knowing in that exact moment that he would never stop teasing her about it. “Are you ever going to let that go?”

“It depends.”

She frowned. “Depends on what?”

His smirk only grew. “On how much you’re willing to make up for it.”

Dany matched his smirk and leant in to kiss him, but the door opened once again and a bunch of long red hair ran past them, pushing her aside to get in a small toilet. Arya and Missy appeared at the doorway as Sansa’s arcades echoed through the room and Dany stepped away a bit from Jon.

“Uh, Sansa? Are you okay?” Jon asked as her arcades intensified, making them all flinch. He sighed and looked over at the women in the room. “You can go. I’ll stay with her and then take her home.”

Arya nodded to him. “I’ll wait outside for you.”

Missandei didn’t say anything as she turned around and walked out of the room with the younger Stark, leaving them alone, if not were for Sansa throwing up inside one of the toilets.

Dany gave him a small smile. “I’ll see you… in a few hours.”

Jon nodded at her and was about to get in Sansa’s toilet but first she took hold of his face and kissed him deep and quick, for the door was opened and they couldn’t have people seeing together – not yet, if they were to become a real thing. But she didn’t want to leave without feeling his lips again and knew by his grin that the small risk was worth. She gave him a tiny smirk before walking after the girls and closing the door behind her.

“Hey, you.” Dany’s head snapped to her right, startled by Arya’s voice. She had her arms folded over her chest, an eyebrow raised as her grey eyes stared into hers. “The fact that I like you doesn’t change that Jon is my brother and if you hurt him, you will know me. He’s the kindest man there is so do not play with him.”

“I’m not going to play with him, Arya,” Dany calmly told her, knowing Arya wasn’t trying to be rude but looking out for Jon; they were the closest of the Stark siblings, after all. “We… kissed, but we don’t know what’s going on yet.”

“Alright, I’m just warning you…” Daenerys was going to walk away but saw the confliction on the girl’s face, like she wanted to tell her something, so she stayed in her place, waiting. “And… be careful in what you say or do around your kids.”

Dany arched an eyebrow because it was one thing she was watching out for her brother but it was a different thing that she brought her kids into this. She knew how to treat and act her children, why would she say something like that? She was about to question it but the young girl walked back in the ladies toilet.

“Dany!” Missandei appeared right behind her, taking her arm. “You have to tell me everything!”

It took her a moment to notice the absence of her other friend. “Where’s Doreah?”

“Oh, she left with one of the Dothraki guards, said she was going home. Was it because of you and Jon?”

Daenerys took a deep breath. “Well…”

**I**

“But did they kiss?!”

_God damn_ , she was trying her best to not say the word. “They were close.”

Viserion titled his head. “But what does close mean?”

“It means they kissed but you don’t want to tell us!” Rhaegal protested, pointing his little finger at her. “You promised you’d tell us!”

She should have never made that promise. Arya sighed and nodded. “Alright, alright. Yes. They kissed, but –”

She was cut off by the boys’ cheering, giving each other high fives; she didn’t remember such grin on Rickon’s face as he hugged the Targaryen brothers.

“Guys,” Arya truly hated she had to be the one to crush the boys’ hopes. It took a moment for her to get the kids’ attention again. “You need to understand that this kiss… it means they like each other yes, but you have to slow down a bit. It doesn’t mean they’re boyfriend and girlfriend yet.”

“Yet,” Rhaegal’s grin widened as he clapped his hands. “That’s the next step in our mission – we have to make them realize they should be boyfriend and girlfriend!”

Arya sighed, why did she even open her mouth? Rhaegal started talking to Viserion, so she took her chance to take her brother by his arm and pull him close to her.

“Listen, Rickon, you’re the oldest there, so I hope you know how things are,” she didn’t want to do this before because she enjoyed seeing her little brother happy and careless with the Targaryen boys, taking back that part of his childhood that had been taken way too early from him. “I don’t want you or the boys to have their hearts broken if nothing further happens with Jon and Daenerys, so try to moderate this little game.”

Rickon frowned and looked at her like she’d just said the craziest thing there was. “It’s not a little game, Arya. It’s about putting our families together because that would be the best thing ever. And we’re not going to end up with our hearts broken because Jon and Daenerys _will be_ together.”

The little bronze-haired boy appeared between them in a jump. “We need to start making the next plan!”

“What plan?” A different voice asked from the doorway. They all turned around to find little Drogon standing there, the familiar scowl between his dark eyebrows as he carefully eyed them. “You have a mission?”

“No.” Rhaegal was quick to answer, shaking his head. “We’re just… talking about Rickon’s homework.”

“You’re lying,” Drogon didn’t buy it, not even for one second. He walked over to them, glaring at the Stark pair before focusing back on his brothers. “I want to know about the mission.”

Viserion smiled and opened his mouth to speak, but Rhaegal put a hand on his mouth. “No. It’s a secret.”

The frown deepened on the dark-haired boy as anger started to fill his orange eyes. “Why? We always make missions together.”

“Not this one,” his brother shook his head, chin up. “You’re not going to want to help us… you’ll want to ruin it. We’re not telling you.”

Arya could see some sadness crossing the boy’s face before the anger took over again. “Who cares about your stupid mission. I’m sure it won’t work anyway.” He turned around and walked out of the room.

Rhaegal stuck out his tongue to him. “It’s working already!” He yelled so his brother could hear him.

“You should have told him,” Arya said as soon as she saw the boy was out of sight. He knew the feeling of having your siblings sharing secrets and leaving you aside – Robb and Sansa did it all the time when they were younger, but she was glad she always had Jon by her side. “He’s your brother.”

“So? He hates Jon. He’ll get mad and he’ll probably tell everything and the mission will be ruined,” the six year old shook his head, determined. “We won't tell him.”

**II**

Jon walked out of the kitchen’s back door, ready to go knock on the cabin’s door to speak with Daenerys. It was morning but he’d seen her sons with Rickon already playing something in his brother’s room, so he guessed she was up already. He walked through the still snowed backyard, but something in its corner caught his eye.

It was Drogon, sitting in front of the fence that was around the huge backyard, facing it, with Nymeria by his side. He frowned, finding it strange he wasn’t playing with his brothers and Rickon. He walked towards him, the grey wolf following his movements with her yellow eyes, as if she was watching out for the boy. It was rare how close their wolves had grown to the Targaryen boys.

Jon approached close enough to see the boy was playing with a horse figure, but had his chin rested on his hand with his elbow on his leg, looking bored as hell. He surely didn’t know where his brothers were.

“Hey, your brothers are inside in Rickon’s room, if you didn’t know.”

Drogon turned around with those orange eyes that looked like fire, now more than ever as he looked up at him in anger. “I know where they are,” he stated before focusing back on the little horse. “They have a stupid secret mission going on that they won’t tell me so I won’t play with them.”

“Oh…” he looked back at the cabin, knowing that could wait. He remembered how sad and angry Arya was when Robb and Sansa kept their own little secrets – it’d upset him too, but he wouldn’t dare to show it and instead, made up his own secret with his little sister. He sat down next to the child, as Drogon looked at him in confusion. “Sansa and our older brother, Robb, used to have their own secrets too, I know how that feels.”

“I don’t feel anything,” Drogon was quick to say, his frown deepening. “I just think they’re stupid.” Jon held back a chuckle, remembering Arya’s exact words about their brother and sister. “Do you know anything about their mission?”

“No, bud, sorry. If I knew I would tell you.”

The child was confused at that as he titled his head. “Why? You’re not my friend. You’re Rhaegal and Viserion’s.”

“Well, I could be your friend… but I thought you didn’t like me much, so…”

“That’s true,” damn the boy was honest, Jon thought as he arched an eyebrow. “I think you’re good… and a bit cool, but ever since you appeared, all Rhaegal talks about is you,” Jon smiled to himself; he should have known the boy was jealous of him because of Rhaegal. He had suspected it, but Daenerys had said he didn’t like many people, so he put that thought aside. “And because you look at my mama like boyfriends look at their girlfriends.”

His breath was cut off and the smile was gone in a second. “What?”

“Yeah, you’re always smiling at her, looking at her,” he narrowed his eyes at him. “But mama doesn’t need any boyfriend. I’m named after my papa, Drogo; I didn’t know him but I know all about him – he was the best at fighting and on the motorcycles and on horses too. He was the coolest. My mama doesn’t need someone else.”

Jon cleared his throat, not wanting to believe he was that obvious that a six year old could see what he felt about Daenerys. “Well… your mother and I are just… friends,” he didn’t even know what they were but it was a good way to put it to the kid.

Drogon arched an eyebrow. “Just friends?” Jon nodded, hating that he kind of lied to him but seeing that the boy was truly upset about it, he couldn’t say anything else. “Good.”

Jon moved his gaze towards the horse, desperately trying to find a new topic to talk about. “You like horses?”

The six year old looked back at his toy and nodded. “Yes. Dragons and horses are my favorite. I rode a horse once, but mama never let us again because Rhaegal fell and he hit his head so bad he didn’t wake up for a while. But I didn’t fall, so I think it’s unfair she won’t let me ride a horse again.”

“I love horses and riding them too.”

Drogon’s orange eyes lit up as his lips lifted up a bit. “Seriously? You ride horses?”

“Yeah. My family owns a stable not very far from here – my father used to take us there all the time. I can show you sometime.”

A smile formed on the boy’s face that Jon had never seen as his eyebrows raised, reminding him of the way Daenerys would smile. “Yes, yes, can you take me now?!”

“Now?” It was true he had the morning free but he was thinking about taking Daenerys to a café shop. It seemed his silence meant something for Drogon as his smile started to fade. “Uh, yes, of course, if your mother agrees.”

The brightness was back in his eyes as the smile grew. “Yes, she will!” Something seemed to hit him as a pout formed on his lip. “But she won’t let me ride one; she’ll just let me see them.”

Jon was silent for a moment. “How about we make our own mission?” The kid seemed to be interested by it. “The mission will be about convincing your mother that it is safe for you to ride a horse. What do you think?”

Drogon didn’t answer right away, instead put a hand on his chin, looking thoughtful. “The Riding mission. I like it. But it has to be a secret,” he held out his little hand towards him.

It took Jon a moment to realize what he was waiting for. He took his little hand in his and shook it. “A secret mission it is then.”

**III**

Daenerys was starting to think Jon and Drogon were up to something.

First, it had taken her by surprise when there was a knock on the cabin’s door and instead of finding Jon alone, there was Drogon in front of him, looking at her with his best puppy eyes as the Stark had a nervous grin on his lips. She was even more surprised when Drogon told her Jon wanted to take him to the stables to see the horses, almost begging her to accept.

She knew her son’s love for horses so it didn’t take much to say yes. She’d gone to invite his brothers but the boys didn’t even let her speak three sentences that they told her they were busy with Rickon’s homework and couldn’t go with her and Drogon. Arya promised to watch over them and call her if anything happened.

Going to the stables with Jon and the son that didn’t like him much was not how Daenerys imagined their next meeting would be, but she should be used to it by now. It didn’t bother her in the slightest, but found it strange how Drogon wouldn’t stop talking to Jon as they drove to the stable that was only ten minutes away from the Stark mansion.

They didn’t have any time alone to talk about what happened last night, but she didn’t mind as Jon talked about his past.

“Yeah, I rode all the time when I was young; my father let me ride all by myself when I was eight.”

“I rode a horse once too!” Drogon said almost yelling to which Dany frowned in confusion. Why would he yell if it was just the three of them in the car? “But mama never let me ride again.”

She had to contain herself from rolling her eyes at his dramatic voice. “Because Rhaegal fell, you were too young…” she saw Jon looked at her for a moment before putting his eyes back on the road, so she went on. “They were four, Drogon was with me, Viserion with Missandei and Rhaegal with the instructor, he must have sat on the wrong way because he fell, hit his head and was unconscious for five minutes. That was enough for me.”

Jon shook his head. “What kind of instructor was that?”

“Mama yelled at him a lot,” Drogon said proudly.

“So I think they’re too young to ride again. Maybe when they’re older.”

She heard Drogon snorting in the back seat. “But I didn’t fall!”

Jon shrugged. “And with a good instructor, I’m sure no one would fall.”

Daenerys narrowed her eyes at the way Jon smiled as a matching one appeared on her son’s face. That was when she started to believe they were up to something – and it better not be what she was thinking. But how could they be up to something if Drogon didn’t like him?

They arrived to the stables soon enough, Drogon’s eyes were as wide as ever as he watched the horses walking around the place; she understood he’d love to ride one again but she wasn’t ready for that – it had scared the hell out of her when Rhaegal fell and didn’t wake up. She’d blamed herself for even thinking they were ready to do that, but she’d missed riding back then. She used to ride a horse twice a week in a field when she was married to Drogo, for the only thing that Dothraki loved as much as they loved motorcycles, were horses.

Jon appeared at her side after being gone to greet the stable men; she was surprised to see his hair down for the first time, almost touching his shoulders and making him look younger. A smile tugged on her lips to see the many dark curls around his face.

Dany gave a nod towards it. “I like your hair.”

He grinned. “Isn’t that something I’m supposed to say to you?” A chuckle escaped from her lips as it made his grin grew, his eyes darting down to the boy that had his gaze focused on the horses a few meters from them. “I talked to Rory. You can go see the horse.”

“Really?” He looked up at his mother. “Can I go, mama?”

She was a bit hesitant but seeing the horse from up close wouldn’t do any harm. Jon trusted the man so she was going to do her best in not showing her fear. “Yes. But be careful…” he let go of her hand as soon as she said yes and didn’t waste a second to run to the man all excited. She crossed her arms over her chest, knowing Jon wouldn’t let Drogon be near a horse if it wasn’t calm but there was still some nervousness she couldn’t help but feel. She glanced over her shoulder to see Jon had his eyes focused on the horse and Drogon. “Since when you’re best friends with my son?”

He looked at her, eyebrows raised. “I’m not sure he even considers me his friend… yet. But telling him that you and I are just friends and that I love horses may have helped a bit.”

“Just friends? That’s what you told him?”

He arched an eyebrow to her in a daring way. “Was I supposed to tell him something else?” She grinned with a roll of eyes, looking forward again, seeing as Drogon reached out to caress the horse’s forearm. “Apparently, he saw that I looked at you like a boyfriend looks at his girlfriend and didn’t like that.”

Her purple eyes grew wild. “He said that?” Jon nodded with an amused smirk settling in, but she couldn’t believe Drogon had noticed that and she, herself, didn’t. How blind had she been? “That’s why he didn’t like you?”

“And because since I showed up all Rhaegal talks about is me,” he added. “Then I told him I loved horses too and he was delighted.”

Daenerys was happy to know Drogon was starting to grow fond of Jon but that only incremented the worries that had overcame to her that morning – she loved to spend time with Jon, he didn’t care for her children just because they were _her_ children, it was beyond that. He’d made a friendship with Rhaegal and Viserion that had nothing to do with her and he had come to know how to get around Drogon, too. Her boys adored him as much as she did and she wished to have that every day, not just for the rest of days they were going to be in Winterfell. But truth was, Jon belonged here and Daenerys belonged in Dragonstone or King’s Landing, how were they going to bear up with that?

The heat of last night didn’t let her think of all the consequences but she did in the morning. “Jon,” he looked back at her as his grin slowly disappeared to see the worried look on her face. “I’m leaving in two days,” she knew he had the same thoughts in this matter, this wasn’t something they were going to forget and pretend like never happened. “What should we do?”

He took his moment to answer. “We should just… see how this works out.”

Daenerys nodded, suddenly feeling stupid for even showing him she was thinking beyond these two days. But Jon was right; they had yet to see how this – whatever it was – worked out for them. They couldn’t tell the children or his family anything, for there was nothing official to tell.

She still had to speak with Doreah, though. Even if Irri said she shouldn’t give her any explanation because she herself had told her to stay away from Jon because it was obvious there was something between him and her, but apparently Doreah didn’t want to listen.

“Look at that,” Jon suddenly said as Dany looked everywhere, not knowing what he meant. He walked behind her as she turned around to face him confused. “You saw it?”

“What are you talki –”

She knew soon enough what he was talking about as he leant in and kissed her; she would have pulled away knowing her son was just a few meters from them but she trusted Jon knew that already and only let herself kiss him back, containing herself from reaching out to tangle her hand into his curls.

She felt the smile on his lips as he moved away and opened her eyes to find it there and loving the way his dark eyes shined. “Did you see it?”

“No,” the corner of her lips curved up. “You should show me again.”

Jon’s eyes moved past her as he quickly moved away from her and she spun around, seeing Drogon in front of them with a confused scowl between his eyebrows.

“What are you doing?”

“I had something in my eye and Jon was trying to get it out,” she explained quickly, giving him the best smile she could manage at the moment. “Did you have fun with the horse?”

Drogon was silent at her question, his orange eyes going back and forth between her and Jon as both of them held their breath to feel the yelling coming by what he’d just seen. The six year old eventually shrugged. “Yes I did,” she let out a breath and heard Jon doing the same behind her. “But guess what! The stable man said he was going to go get Jon’s horse!”

A frown appeared on Daenerys’ face. “What for?”

Jon stepped forward. “So I can show Drogon how _I_ ride.”

“Ah… okay.”

“What happened to Rhaegal was the instructor’s fault, you know that, right?” Jon asked her to see the way her shoulders tensed to the mention of his horse coming. “I’ve taken Arya and Bran when they were four and I’m sure I was far younger than the instructor and I never let them fall.”

“I know it was the instructor’s fault,” she let out a small sigh. “But Rhaegal was unconscious for five minutes, Jon. It’s a miracle there wasn’t any consequences to it but I don’t want to take any other chance.”

“I know, I respect that. I just want you to know I wouldn’t let any of your children fall if they were up there with me.”

Dany gave him a small smile and a nod before he turned around to walk towards his black horse. She held out her hand to Drogon and even if he was already upset at her denial he took it, a pout forming on his lips as he watched Jon jump on his horse and take the reins.

Daenerys hated that she was always too insecure about her children. Many people idealized how fierce and secure she was, but only the close people to her knew how insecure she was when it came about her boys. She just didn’t want any harm to come to them, and it’d always been up to her and only her to watch out for them. She’d never had anyone by her side to tell her her children would be safe with them – Irri, Doreah and Missandei were the closest thing to it that she had, but that wasn’t remotely comparable because it was their job to do that.

“Jon, wait!” Jon moved his head towards her a bit surprised. “Will you… take Drogon with you for a ride? Just one.” She looked down to her child, seeing how wide his eyes were, half mouth opened in utterly shock. “Would you like that, sweetheart?”

 “Really? Yes, yes, I want to!”

She noticed there was no saddle on the horse, but that didn’t matter, for Rhaegal had fallen from a saddle, it didn’t make any difference if Jon was good at it. She swallowed hard and lifted Drogon up to hand him to Jon, who took him quickly and sit him in front of him. She smiled at the sight of the huge grin on Drogon’s face; it was rare for him to smile that widely and it’d warm her heart every time he did it.

“Take part of the reins if you want, but don’t hold too tight. We’ll go slow okay?” Jon told him as the kid did nothing but nod excitedly. He looked down at Dany and gave her a smile with a firm nod. “We’ll be back in a minute. I promise.”

Daenerys nodded back and genuinely smiled at him, _knowing_ Drogon would be safe with him. She watched them ride away slowly and let out the sigh she was holding back. Jon was someone she could trust her children with, he cared for them in the genuine way, it wasn’t even forced. But the more time she passed with him, the more she knew that whatever thing they had wouldn’t go away when she left Winterfell.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone. i tried updating last night but i don’t know if it was my internet or the page was down but it didn’t let me.
> 
> i know sometimes i say long chapter ahead and it's not that long, but believe me on this one when i say long chapter ahead ft. a canon villain appearing for first time oops.

Rhaegal couldn’t believe it.

His mama had just came in Rickon’s room to give him and Viserion superheroes action figures; Thor and Iron Man, as Drogon held behind her his Captain America figure. That wasn’t what upset him; they three had agreed that he was Thor, Viserion was Iron Man and Drogon was Captain America when it came to it. What upset him was what he was hearing Drogon started telling Viserion when their mother left.

“Jon took me to the stables and mama even let me ride a horse with him! It was awesome! Jon said I did pretty well at it.”

Viserion smiled widely as Rhaegal frowned deeply, not even caring for his new Thor figure next to him as he threw it to the side and crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s not fair!” He said, getting his brothers’ attention. “Mama didn’t say she was going with Jon!”

“You still said no,” his dark-haired brother shrugged.

“You’re not even part of the mission!” Rhaegal got up from Rickon’s bed and walked over to him, pointing his little finger to him – he couldn’t believe Drogon, of all people, got to ride a horse with Jon. “And you hate Jon!”

“I don’t hate him!” Drogon yelled back, a matching scowl appearing between his eyebrows. “I see he’s okay now,” a smirk slowly formed on his lips. “I even have a secret mission with him.”

Rhaegal’s green eyes grew wild, half mouth opened. “You can’t! You never liked Jon! Why do you always ruin everything?!”

Viserion, who had been silent as always when there was an upcoming fight between his brothers, frowned in confusion, titling his head to one side. “But he didn’t ruin anything. Jon and mama spent time together, he helped in our mission. We should tell him!”

Rhaegal gave him a look as Drogon looked at him in confusion. “That’s your mission? Mama and Jon spending time together? Why?”

The bronze haired child groaned, hitting his foot on the floor. He wished Rickon was here, but some Osha had come to get him to take him and Bran to the park; he would know what lie to make up.

Viserion looked back at him. “I think we should tell him,” he repeated.

“No.”

The blonde six year old shook his head, arms folding as his golden eyes showed his own determination. “Mama always says that we have to help each other, that’s what brothers do. Drogon is our brother and I want to tell him!”

“I won’t tell him!”

“So I will!” He turned to the other boy, who had a mix of confusion and anger on his face as he glared at their brother behind him. “You have to _promise_ you won’t tell. Do you promise?”

Drogon shrugged and nodded. “I promise.”

Viserion smiled. “Our mission is called the Dragon-Wolf mission and is about putting mama and Jon together, as boyfriend and girlfriend, because they like each other like that.”

A silence settled in the room as Rhaegal waited for his brother to start screaming and threatening them to tell it to their mother. Telling him wasn’t a good idea; he was going to ruin everything now. If he wasn’t going to tell their mother, he was going to do things to keep them apart.

After long seconds, Drogon spoke up. “Why do you want to do that? Jon told me they’re just friends.”

Viserion raised his eyebrows in surprise. “He said that? But they’d kissed on the mouth, they’re not just friends.”

His brother’s orange eyes widened at that. “They kissed on the mouth? But… no! Mama doesn’t need a boyfriend, we’re fine like this!”

Rhaegal rolled his eyes; he knew this was going to happen. Viserion, on the other hand, shook his head, wanting to explain it to their brother. “But if Jon and mama are together, we will all be family. Jon is kind and cool and he makes mama smile a lot!”

“He can still be her friend!” Drogon argued, the angry frown starting to settle in on his face. “He can’t be mama’s boyfriend, he told me they’re just friends and I told him about our papa!”

Rhaegal hated when Drogon talked about their papa; he didn’t understand how he could like him so much if they never met him. He wished they could have met him but they didn’t, he was up in heaven with Rhaego and they were down here with their mama, having to see as all other kids had a daddy but them.

“Our daddy isn’t here and will never be here! Jon can be our step-daddy; I want _him_ to be our daddy! He’s good, and brave, and awesome and he will be the best dad ever!”

“He won’t be our dad!” Drogon screamed furious. Rhaegal could feel how upset he was, could see it in the way his cheeks started to become pinker than usual. “We already have a daddy, even if he’s not here!”

“Well if you want your daddy so much then you go with him and leave us alone! Jon, mama, Viserion and I will be happy without you!”

Viserion gasped in surprise, Drogon’s mouth fell open as Rhaegal realized what he’d just said. It had taken them time to understand that once you were up in heaven you couldn’t come back but they knew that– he shouldn’t have said that to Drogon, but he was angry he always wanted to choose everything.

“Take it back.” Drogon hissed between his clenched teeth.

Rhaegal knew he should, but still, he shook his head. “No.”

“Take it back!”

“No!”

Drogon threw himself to Rhaegal as Viserion let out a piercing scream, watching as his two brothers started rolling on the floor, pulling each other’s hairs and scratching their faces.

“Stop fighting, stop it!” Viserion felt the hot tears streaming down his face. He hated when his brothers fought – he loved them both and couldn’t understand why they were always so ready to fight one another. They weren’t going to stop, not unless their mama was here. He got out of the room and started running as fast as he could. “Mama, mama!”

**I**

Daenerys loved this day so far. After getting out of the stables, they stopped to the nearest toy shop, knowing Rhaegal and Viserion – Rhaegal, more than anything – would be upset to find out their brother got to ride a horse and they didn’t, even if she’d tried asked them, so she decided to buy them their favorite superheroes action figures.

Drogon had been as happy as never when he got down the horse with Jon. As Jon promised, her son was safe and without a scratch. She was right to trust in him; he wouldn’t let her children be hurt if there was anything he could do to it.

They were in the kitchen now, having coffee together. The house was quiet as ever; Rickon and Bran were out with Osha, a woman that helped and protected them when they escaped from Winterfell. Sansa was on bed, probably with the worst hangover ever and Arya was out of the house as soon as they came in, telling Jon she’d be having lunch with Gendry and Hot Pie. She didn’t know where his uncle was but she’d learned to know that he wasn’t often in the house.

“This isn’t a coffee shop, but close enough,” Jon joked as he placed the sugar between them. “Wouldn’t trade the stables for it, though.”

“Thanks for that,” she brought the coffee to her lips, her hands holding on to the cup, enjoying the warm. “I’m not sure I could have trusted anyone else for Drogon to ride with. He thinks you’re _okay_ now,” she gave him an amused smile.

Jon let out a small chuckle; that kid was something else. He’d never seen a child so excited to be on a horse, not even with Arya and Bran, and the smile on his face when he told him he did pretty well was priceless. He’d come to learn Drogon wasn’t as affective and expressive as his brothers but if he wasn’t glaring at you, that was something good.

“That’s better than nothing, isn’t it?”

“You should be honored; Drogon doesn’t say someone is okay just because,” her amused smile turned into a warm one as she reached out for his hand and he didn’t find it odd at all, enjoying the warmness of her skin against his ever cold one. His mind was about to lead somewhere else hadn’t she spoken up again. “So, according to my children you’re cool, kind, and okay.”

He arched an eyebrow. “And according to you?” Daenerys’ smile turned into a smirk and opened her mouth to answer, but the smirk slowly disappeared as a frown drew in on her face, looking worried. “What is it?”

They both looked up to hear screaming from upstairs. Daenerys was up in a second, already walking out of the kitchen as he followed her, but when they were about to get to the stairs, Viserion appeared in sight, cheeks painted with tears.

“Mama, Rhaegal and Drogon are hitting each other! They won’t stop!”

Daenerys and Jon followed the boy into Rickon’s room, finding the two brothers interviewed with each other, rolling on the floor and pulling the other’s hair as they screamed things they couldn’t figure out as they were saying it at the same time.

Dany, apparently having experience on this, was quick to pull Drogon out as Jon took Rhaegal away from them. The boy struggled against his grip, trying to get back to his brother. “You’re the worst brother ever!”

Drogon was squirming between his mother’s arms. “ _You_ are the worst brother ever, traitor!”

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Daenerys screamed in anger as Jon had never seen her in. He’d seen her worried, happy, crying, but never angry. That seemed to put a stop to the boys’ anger as they shut their mouths but kept their glare on one another. She was confident enough that her scream was enough as she let go of Drogon; Jon wasn’t sure to let go of Rhaegal but he imitated her nonetheless. None of the child dared to move. “How many times do I have to say you can’t fight each other like that?!”

She stood in the middle of them, hands on hip, giving a death-glare to both of them. Jon didn’t see any blood on their faces, their cheeks were red but from anger, only their hairs were as messy as never. He glanced to his side, seeing Viserion still bawling and since his mother couldn’t comfort him at the moment, he took it upon himself to lift him up in his arms and pat his back as the boy wrapped his arms around his neck and rested his head on his shoulder, looking down at his brothers.

“You will tell me _now_ what caused this,” Daenerys said in a low but dangerous voice, even he could feel intimidated by it.

Drogon opened his mouth to say something, but Rhaegal took a step closer to him only to stay in his place with just one look from his mother. “You _promised_ ,” the six year old hissed.

“I don’t care about promises, not when you fight like this, so whatever secret promises you have, you will tell me.” She stayed silent for a moment and crossed her arms over her chest when the silence kept on. “Now, Rhaegal.”

“Rhaegal said that if I wanted my papa so much I should go with him and leave you all alone, that you’d be happy without me,” Drogon suddenly replied, almost growling. “So I started hitting him.”

Jon watched as Daenerys’ purple eyes widened as they moved to the bronze haired child, who seemed to look a bit ashamed by it, though the anger didn’t fade away. He was surprised to know Rhaegal could have said that; that was cruel – he must have been truly mad to his brother to say that, even though he surely didn’t mean it.

“Is that true, Rhaegal?”

The boy groaned. “Yes.”

Daenerys bit her bottom lip. “Why would you say that? Do you even know what that means?” Rhaegal was silent; he knew what it meant but he wasn’t probably going to say it out loud. “It means we wouldn’t see your brother ever again,” she said it instead, her voice crackling a bit as Jon could see a hint of pain crossing her eyes to even have to say that. “Is that what you want?”

The anger disappeared from the boy’s face as he looked more ashamed than anything now, starting to realize how mean that had been. Jon remembered a fight with Robb when they were kids in which he’d been mean to him; Catelyn was in the hospital for more than a week after giving birth to Arya and Robb was so worried and angry these days he threw to his face he couldn’t know what he felt because he didn’t have a mother. He’d apologized after, saying he didn’t mean it, almost begging for his forgiveness as it didn’t take Jon long to forgive him; they were just seven.

Daenerys cleared her throat. “Answer me, Rhaegal.”

Rhaegal looked up at his mother with an upset frown on face. “No.”

“Then apologize to your brother,” she turned to her other son this time. “And you will apologize to your brother for hitting him. What do I always say to you?”

Drogon sighed. “That violence is bad.”

“It is,” she looked back and forth between her sons. “I want you both to apologize to each other and shake your hands. You are brothers and you love each other so I don’t you to ever fight like this again or say such mean things to one another, do you understand?”

Both boys didn’t say a word, only kept their glare on the other. It was Rhaegal the one that spoke first, “I won’t apologize,” Jon raised an eyebrow surprised at how daring he was. “What I said was mean but he’s always so selfish and he always gets everything, I won’t apologize!”

Drogon crossed his arms. “You’re a traitor so I won’t apologize either.”

Jon watched Daenerys closing her eyes, as if she was trying to gain patience from somewhere. She opened them again, gazing down at her kids. “You were going to be grounded for a week, now it’s two. And if you don’t apologize to each other by the end of the day, make it three.”

“It’s not fair!” The taller boy complained. “He started it!”

“I didn’t start it!” Rhaegal tried to defend himself. “You started it because you’re selfish!”

Daenerys arched an eyebrow. “What’s he selfish about, then?”

Rhaegal clenched his teeth. “He said mean things about our secret mission and doesn’t want to help because he thinks he’s so right!”

“What is that mission about?”

Her son seemed doubtful as he bit his lip, looking back at his brother in Jon’s arms. Daenerys waited for him to speak, knowing how stubborn he was and what his answer would be. “No. I can’t tell you. It’s a real secret.”

“I am your mother, Rhaegal. You’re six. You’re not keeping secrets from me so tell me about it. Now.”

Like when he was younger and his favorite word to say was ‘no’, he looked up at her, that daring brightness in his green eyes. “No.”

“So you’d rather be grounded for three weeks? That’s a lot of time.”

The child groaned and even hit his foot on the floor, and when Daenerys thought he was finally going to give in, he sighed and nodded. “Yes.”

Dany would let it go, knowing he wasn’t going to resist three weeks without any technology. She was sure she was not going to keep up the punishment that far but she also knew she was going to find out about that mission soon.

“You both go to your room and think about all this _in silence_. You’re grounded.”

Rhaegal and Drogon groaned and walked out of the room, dragging their feet as they did so. Daenerys let out a big sigh as her eyes moved to Jon and Viserion, relieved that the little boy wasn’t weeping anymore. She gave Jon a thankful smile before taking him from his arms and placing a kiss on Viserion’s still wet cheek.

“It’s okay, sweetling. Your brothers are stubborn but I’m sure they’ll apologize to each other soon enough.”

Viserion sniffed, cuddling against her. “I don’t want Drogon to go away, mama. He’s not going away, right?”

“Of course not,” she smiled at him and rubbed his blonde-cream hair. “You and your brothers are always going to be together and with me, you don’t have to worry about that.”

That seemed to cheer up the boy a bit as he looked up at Jon. “Jon, do you want to play with my new Iron Man? Rhaegal and Drogon are grounded so they can’t play now.”

Jon grinned at him. “Of course. I have to make a few calls before and I’ll be there in a minute.”

Dany was a bit curious about that. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just about the meeting with the Free Folk tonight… I have to prepare everything,” Dany had almost forgot about the meeting with going to the stables and now her children’s fight. It was going to be a long day.

**II**

Daenerys talked to Doreah before leaving, but she just shrugged it off, telling her it wasn’t important, and that Jon had already came to her to apologize for his behavior and intentions with her. She mentioned that she knew there was something going on between them, but Dany couldn’t understand why she would go after Jon if she already knew that she felt something for him, but she didn’t want to ask about it either.

Rhaegal and Drogon still didn’t apologize to each other so Daenerys gave strict orders to Missandei and Irri to not let them use their tablets or play much with Rickon. She wouldn’t be out much time so she’d be hopefully back to tuck them in.

The ride to the Wall was one hour away from Winterfell; Sir Jorah insisted that she should go in her own car with her security, but she decided to go with Jon and she didn’t regret it. She didn’t know if he was trying to erase the already tension air around for what they were getting into, but she didn’t mind all the topics he was trying to find to talk about.

Dany learned they shared the same favorite color; red. But Jon liked a bright red, like Ghost’s eyes, even if he’d waken up so many times with bright red eyes staring at him that made him jump. Meanwhile she preferred a darker red but not too much, like the red door from the house she could almost call home when she was a child.

“House with the red door?”

Daenerys nodded. “It was the first house I remember being comfortable… it was in Italy, in a city named Braavos. I even had a lemon tree outside the window of my room. It was beautiful.”

“Braavos? Arya was in Braavos for a while; I don’t even know how she managed to get in a country illegally, but she said she loved it there and learnt how to fight a lot.”

Dany frowned, trying to remember any club fight in the city, but she couldn’t figure out one – except for the Faceless Man’s club fight, but they were rumored to be assassins more than anything, like some kind of mafia. She was sure that couldn’t be where Arya learned how to fight.

“She was in Braavos and then came back to here?”

Jon nodded, his hand gripping the wheel. “Arya was the last one to come home. Sansa and I were the first one to reunite with each other…” he was silent for a moment as a small scowl crossed his face features. “I always thought she was safe with her aunt, she wrote me so in a letter, but when I gave up on trying to find Bran and Rickon in the Wall, I stayed there for a while, near the Night Watch’s University, trying to look for ways to know their whereabouts and Arya’s, and that’s when Sansa found me. Turned out, she was only a few months in her aunt’s house after being with the Lannisters and then Little Finger told her she’d be going home. He sold her to the Boltons that had occupied our house; she was Ramsay Bolton’s fiancée for a while.”

“Ramsay Bolton?” Daenerys had never met him, thankfully, but what she’d heard was enough. Rumors said he was beyond cruel; one of the worst psychopaths the North had. She couldn’t imagine polite, quiet Sansa with him. “Where is he now?”

“Dead.” She saw how white his knuckles turned by the way he held on to the wheel. “I fought him face to face, he was imprisoned, and he escaped to the woods where a pack of wolves destroyed him.” Dany was sure he deserved every moment of it for whatever evils she didn’t even want to imagine he did to Sansa. She couldn’t be surprised now that the girl was so wary of people, after everything she’d been through. “Sansa and I took back Winterfell; they wanted to name me the Mayor since Ramsay had killed his father before and took his place. Uncle Benjen came home too and became the Mayor instead… I wouldn’t be good at that.”

Daenerys had noticed the way Jon would be so quick to put himself down. “But they did name you King in the North for something. I’m sure you’re pretty good at it.”

Jon shrugged. “But I am not a Stark and the Mayors of Winterfell have always been Starks.” She wanted to tell him he was a Stark, even if he didn’t carry the name, she knew the Starks to be famous for their honor and bravery, and she was sure as hell that Jon showed that more than anyone between his siblings. “After we were settled in our house again, Bran and Rickon appeared with Osha and Meera, a woman and a girl that helped them all along. And Arya was the last.”

Dany smiled at the sound of his voice changing; she could feel how important his family to him was. It made her want to scare these Free Folk away even more; the Starks deserved to have a peaceful life once and for all, and if she could do anything to help, she would do it.

“I’m sure your father would be proud,” she commented. She didn’t know Ned Stark and what he knew of him wasn’t good for her family, but any parent would be proud to know their children were together and united. Jon had never given up on finding his brothers and sisters, Ned Stark would be a fool if he didn’t take pride on that, wherever he was.

Jon smiled more to himself than anything; his dark eyes lost on the road ahead them. “He would be.”

Dany smiled warmly and looked ahead, titling her head a bit. “So… your taste in music. Heavy metal or alternative rock?”

Jon laughed out loud, the smile reaching his eyes as he shook his head. They kept talking about random topics; they almost shared the taste on music as Jon didn’t like heavy metal at all, that was more an Arya thing he claimed, as more quiet songs was his thing. It almost matched her liking for instrumental music, though the reason was the same; most of time, they liked music that helped them relax.

A deer showed up out of nowhere, making him turn the wheel so fast they almost crashed, but it was nothing serious. Jon told her then the story about how he and Robb stole their father’s car once to go to a party when they were fifteen, and for some reason, the car brakes didn’t work in a moment so they ended up driving through the woods when a wolf appeared out of nowhere on the road. They had to jump out of the car when they couldn’t stop it and it was going straight into the lake. They’d laughed their asses off before remembering their father was going to kill them.

Daenerys laughed throughout the story, unable to imagine a young Jon getting in such trouble. He looked to be so quiet and responsible now, that would have been priceless to witness. But before she could tell him one of her stories, the car stopped as she realized they’d arrived to the place.

“I tried talking him into meeting in a better place but…” Jon’s voice trailed off as her gaze focused on the old shed. 

“It’s okay.”

Daenerys got out of the car; the ten Dothraki that had come with her and the ten security men of Jon were already out of their cars and motorcycles. She walked close to Jon; the place was all dark around them if not for two high street lights… and she had to admit she was anxious to meet these Free Folk that wanted to break in Winterfell.

They walked through the shed’s door; Daenerys narrowed her eyes, trying to have a good sight of all the men that were standing a few meters from them. Five Dothraki stayed outside as all the others came in with them. The Free Folk couldn’t be more than ten either; this was supposed to be a peace communication, though everyone made sure to show their weapons.

Jon was carrying a gun in his waist. He’d told her before to stay behind him, just in case something went wrong, but it’d be useless to try to hide from them. They knew who she was and that’d only show her as weak. Daenerys stood next to him as a redhead man with a red beard stepped forward from their group.

She noticed they were all tall and big as the Dothraki, with long beards, wearing clothes that looked almost military.

Jon gave a nod to the redhead man. “Tormund.”

“Jon Snow,” he nodded back, his blue eyes shifting slowly to her as she contained herself from rolling her eyes to see him licking his bottom lip. “You shouldn’t have brought your whore with you; we’re not going to be bought that easily.”

Daenerys saw the way Jon’s body tensed, how he closed his hand into a fist and he had to swallow before focusing back on the man, knowing it’d be best to ignore his insults. “We’re here to speak of a deal. You know what you’re seeking for. Winterfell doesn’t have to pay that price, only me.”

Dany frowned; this wasn’t part of the plan. They hadn’t discussed much what he was going to say, but it was always clear they were going to offer them money – Jon never said anything about giving himself to them instead of Winterfell. That was not going to happen.

“We don’t want you. You betrayed us. You got one of us killed. We want your town…” his smirk grew as he landed his eyes on her again and she held his stare, not even blinking. “And the people in it. You can bright all the Dothraki you want, that won’t stop us from getting inside.”

“You will not get in,” Jon shook his head slightly. “You can have me instead of Winterfell, or if you don’t want that, you can have all the money you want and the guarantee that none of Winterfell will ever bother you. Or, you can try to get in and get your men hurt in the process.”

“Money,” Tormund laughed. “We don’t need money. We need you knowing what betraying the Free Folk feels like.”

“I did not betray you!” Jon raised his voice only to take a deep breath to calm himself. “Deep down, you know I would have never done that. I will be forever deeply sorry for choosing that road, for what happened to Ygritte… but it wasn’t my intention. I never betrayed you.”

“You’ll be forever deeply sorry yet here you are with a new chick,” he focused on her, frowning slightly. “You’ve got to be his chick, otherwise why would you risk your three defenseless children for his ass?”

He knew how to hit a nerve. Daenerys stepped forward, forgetting all about peace as Jon had to hold her back by taking her arm. “You speak of my children one more time, I dare you.” She was good about making deals, but she’d always see red whenever someone dared to threaten her children, that was crossing the line.

“Oh, so the Dragon woman got fire,” Tormund’s smirk grew. “You got yourself into this; I can speak of whoever I want. And this is a peace meeting, don’t you know that?”

“Do not bring the children into this,” Jon spoke before Daenerys would threaten him even more. “They’re innocent. Like all of Winterfell’s people. I can assure you this is something we’ve already won, Tormund. How many more people have to die before you realize it?”

“If you are so sure you’ve already won this, why are you here?”

“To give you one last chance of sparing your men’s lives. I don’t want to hurt any of you, you were my friends once. But you will give me no choice if you’re to attack Winterfell. You can have all the money you want, you can even have me, but leave the innocents out of this.”

Tormund remained in silence for a while, scratching his red beard as he contemplated them. After a while, he gave a short nod towards them.

“We can have all the money we want and you, too?”

Daenerys’ eyes opened wide as she instinctively reached out to his hand, holding on to it as Jon kept it in his back for them not to see it. “Jon,” she warned, imagining what his answer was going to be.

“Yes,” Jon said, ignoring her voice. “If you give me your word that you will leave Winterfell alone.”

“Jon, what are you doing?” She didn’t care about keeping her voice low anymore or staying behind him. “No, you can’t do that.”

His dark eyes moved to her; they didn’t have the softness she was used to, they were unreadable. “Daenerys,” he stepped closer to her. “You gave me your word you wouldn’t intervene.”

“Unless necessary. This is necessary,” she looked back at the men a few meters from them. “You will have all the money you want but you can’t have him. That is not part of the deal.”

“Then there won’t be any deal.”

“No,” Jon let go of her hand to step forward and away from her, trying to ignore her purple eyes filled with desperation. “If you want me and money, then that’s what you’ll have. Just give me your word you won’t touch Winterfell.”

“I give you my word none of the Free Folk will harm Winterfell, if by tomorrow you show up with the money I want.”

Daenerys shook her head. “Jon, no…”

“Then it’s a de –”

A door breaking behind the Free Folk made them all jump; Dany heard one of them shouting something she couldn’t figure out as she was thrown to the ground by Jon standing on top of her – she had no time to ask him what the hell was going on that gunshots started to echo through the place.

Jon knelt next to her and took out his gun. “Stay down, Daenerys!”

She crawled towards a fallen metallic table to hide behind it; it had a little hole that she could see through. There were the Free Folk shooting their guns and throwing their knives towards men that had skin as pale as snow, matching white hair and bright, blue eyes.

“The White Walkers,” Jon whispered next to her, looking through the same hole. “They’re worse than the Free Folk, than the Dothraki, we have to help them.”

“What? Wait –”

Jon pulled out the grip safety of his gun. “You get out of here.”

“Jon, wait!”

Jon glanced over his shoulder to verify that two Dothraki were behind them to watch out for Daenerys before standing up and starting to shoot towards the White Walkers – they were said to be human experiments to look the way they do, to improve their abilities. He thought them to be extinct, that was what Ygritte had told him; that the Free Folk took care of them as all they did was kill people and bring them back stronger in the best (or worst) of the cases, with that experiments that the Night King, their leader, started.

He was out of bullets soon enough and fighting them on his own with the dagger that he always kept in his waist. He hated fighting but he was not going to let them kill them, he tried his best to not make a fatal wound as he kept cutting through arms and legs and shoulders of all the men that ran into him, even using his fists if it came to it.

Jon turned around just in time to see one of them knocking Tormund to the ground, ready to stab him on his head with their sword. He took a deep breath and didn’t think it twice, or else he wouldn’t do it, before throwing his dagger to the man’s back as it cut through his chest.

He had killed before even if he wanted to forget it; he had to, to survive in the woods beyond the Wall before he met the Free Folk and even with them. Jon walked towards Tormund and the fallen man, taking his dagger out of his back as he looked at him. The wild man was out of breath and shocked to say the least, but he held out his hand to him, nonetheless.

Tormund took his time to take it to stand up. It wasn’t a moment to smile, but he would have had the circumstances be different. His eyes searched around the place for Daenerys, seeing the Dothraki fighting the White Walkers with what they called an Arakh, some kind of blade that looked like a scythe, with the Free Folk by their side.

“Thought you guys wiped them out of the country?”

“Thought so too,” Tormund hissed, charging his gun again. “Guess we’ll have to make it official now,” Jon sighed. This wasn’t going to end well – there couldn’t be more than twenty White Walkers inside, but that was enough for this to be a slaughter. “You could have run off.”

 He should have taken Daenerys and ran, but he couldn’t leave them with the White Walkers. “Yeah. I could have.”

“Not bad for a traitor,” his voice didn't carry any venom as Jon recognized the teasing of it.

“Jon!” He didn’t have much time to finish turning around that Daenerys had already throw herself to his arms as he caught her in them and felt her breathing speeding against his chest, seeing two of her Dothraki guards standing behind her. “We need to get the hell out of here!”

He broke apart from her. “ _You_ have to get out of here!” They were lucky to be in this corner of the shed, away from all the chaos, but it wouldn’t last long for more White Walkers to arrive. “Daenerys, these people are more dangerous than what you think – they kill all the people they can to make experiments with them. You have to go.”

There was a bit of anger, but more determination flashing in her purple eyes as her hands held to his arms. “I am not leaving without you. And if they are what you say they are, they have to be stopped here and now.”

Tormund smirked at her despite all the seriousness and nervousness on his face. “Got any ideas, sweetheart?”

“They’re all experiments of what?”

“Ice,” Jon answered her as he took the bullets that Tormund offered him to charge his gun. “I have no idea how but it makes them stronger on their punches and ability to resist a wound.”

“Ice…” she repeated in a whisper, her eyes moving down and past him, but he didn’t have time to follow her gaze as he turned around and pointed to two White Walkers that were ready to run to them, shooting them on their legs. “Fire.”

“What?”

Daenerys looked at him calmly as Jon couldn’t understand where her calmness was coming from; this place was a chaos, people screaming and guns were shooting around them, but somehow that didn’t matter to her as she arched an eyebrow to him.

“Fire. If ice experiments make them stronger, then fire will make them weaker.”

Tormund nodded. “You’ve got a point, but unless you’ve got some living dragons, we’re screwed with that option.”

She rolled her eyes and stepped between the two men to put her hands on a barrel that had a big _GASOLINE_ sign plastered on it. “I don’t need dragons to have fire.”

“Oh shit,” the red headed man muttered with his blue eyes fixed forward. Jon watched as a man, looking like the others, stepped inside the shed, though he was taller than most of the White Walkers. “That’s the Night King.”

Jon frowned. “Isn’t it said that if he dies, so will all the others?”

“He’s like their master so I’m pretty sure they’ll volunteer to follow him into it. But first, how do we get him there?”

Daenerys pushed and pushed against the barrel and threw it to the ground, the gasoline inside it starting to spread around. She pulled out a lighter from the pocket of her white coat and lit it up.

Jon took hold of her wrist. “Wait. Tormund, you go tell the Dothraki and your men to get out but try to hold the White Walkers inside – I’ll hold off the Night King as much as I can.”

“You’re out of your mind,” Tormund shook his head. “No one has ever defeated him, Jon. He’s the strongest of all.”

“You can’t do that alone,” Daenerys desperately said to hear the other man’s words.

“I won’t do it alone. Your fire. He’ll be weaker if it’s around him.”

She frowned, looking at him as if he was crazy. “But you’re not resistant to the fire, you won’t –”

“I’ll make it out, I just have to hold him back, and when you’re sure that they can’t get out, I’ll go.” He saw the confliction and fear in her eyes, so he had to take her hands between his and squeeze them. “Daenerys, if they’re done here, they’ll move on to Winterfell and even beyond that. No one thinks they still exist; we have to keep it that way. You said my people named King in the North for something, so trust me on this.”

Dany sighed, knowing what he meant. If any of these men or creatures, whatever they were, moved on to Winterfell, they could kill and experiment with his brothers, his sisters – and her children. That was not going to happen. She gave him a short but determined nod of head.

Tormund looked at Jon one last time before running up towards his men and the Dothraki fighting the other White Walkers, helping them as he screamed to them to get out as soon as possible.

“Will you be okay?” Jon knew the Targaryens were famous to be resistant to the fire, there would never be no burden marks left on their skin as much as he knew, but he had to make sure.

“I think fire is my thing and ice is yours,” her eyes moved past him, towards the so called Night King that was starting to walk further in the place and towards them. She stared up to his dark eyes and cupped his cheek before deeply kissing him, catching his bottom lip between hers. She almost bit into it, not wanting to let go but knowing she had to.

He moved away from her and gave her a small smile. “Good.”

Jon turned around and walked right to the famous Night King, seeing he already had a sword in hand. He took a sword from the ground and saw out of the corner of his eyes as orange light started to illuminate the place, meaning Daenerys already lit up the gasoline. He had to make it to the front door – but first, he’d have to go through this kind of madman scientific.

His blue eyes looked like ice; he could almost feel the coldness they held. Jon was the first one to attack, but he had to admit this Night King was fast – he went left, left, right, right and the center with his sword, but the man reflected all his hits and for one of his left attacks he’d go right twice.

He didn’t feel the heat much, but it surprised him to see the drops of sweat already on the other man’s forehead. Jon kept trying to hit him and he kept dismissing his hits as he attacked back, but his movements were slower. Daenerys was right – fire weakened them.

Jon jumped back when the Night King’s blade almost touched his neck. The man’s hands were sweaty but he kept trying to hit him left, left, right, left again, and it was Jon’s turn to reflect his attempts and go harder on his sword, to the point it crackled from the Night King’s hand and he took his chance to throw it away.

He tried stabbing him on the shoulder but the man was fast and moved away before he could as Jon didn’t realize how close he had gotten to him, not until he saw him pulling out a small dagger from his waist to stab him on the stomach.

He groaned to feel the impact, the sharp knife cutting through his flesh. But he took his chance to return the favor by stabbing him with his sword on the same spot he had done to him, but with a longer blade. He didn’t regret it; he knew the tales of this madman killing men, women, children and even babies to experiment with them, trying to turn them into something they were not meant to be.

Jon let go of the sword he was holding and instead took the Night King by his arms to throw him behind him, towards the fire he knew to be spreading. He didn’t hear his voice screaming, he didn’t even know if he had one given that he didn’t say a thing throughout the entire fight.

Jon walked towards the door, starting to feel how hot this place was getting, but he fell to his knees, his hand intensively going up to his stomach to feel the hot and thick blood coming out from the wound a small dagger had made. This was not how he planned his evening to go, at all.

His vision started to blurry as he had the intention to get up but was unable to, and instead let himself fall to one side, hearing his name being called out in the distance, as a bunch of blonde-silver hair and pair of purple eyes was the last thing he could see before everything went black.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had this scene planned since weeks, sorry if was a bit carried away with the action scene till the scene i wanted to get to? BUT on my defense, at first i didn't know if make dany have an important task on it but it's dany so she couldn't just stand there doing nothing. that's the main reason it got a bit long.
> 
> also, i don't know if i'll be able to update next week even though i'll do my best but it'll be exams weeks, so tough times are here.
> 
> im sure you'll have questions about the last scene but the characters will hopefully answer them in the next chapter. i don't know if there's going to be an scene like that again so if you didn't like don't worry lol but i had it in my head for a long time and had to get it out. and of course it'll also contribute to the plot.
> 
> thank you all for your comments kudos and booksmarks! and as always please lemme know your thoughts!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI Y'ALL!
> 
> I can't even tell you how sorry I am for not updating earlier. The stress over my exams was first on my stress-list, but the stress for not being able to write and update was right there, too. Almost a month without updating, ugh.
> 
> I won't bother you anymore lol. I wanted to make a long chapter to make it up for the absence, though it's not as long as the last one. Thank you so much for your all your comments and kudos and bookmarks, it made me want to write so much even though I couldn't ugggh and when I had the time to write my mind was blank lol I have the best of lucks, huh?
> 
> As always please let me know what you think, I'm always excited and happy to read your opinions :)

“Is he going to be okay?”

Daenerys held on to Jon’s hand as she sat at the edge of the bed, next to him. It was the first time she could take his hand since she found him passing out with blood coming out from a wound on his stomach. Tormund insisted in helping him by curing his wound in a motel that was close to them; apparently the Free Folk weren’t only about damaging, they happened to have people that knew how to nurse someone. She tried fighting that decision but it was useless, for they didn’t have many options. The closest hospital was an hour away and they didn’t know if Jon wasn’t going to make it that far.

She was afraid of making the same mistake again by letting someone she didn’t know cure her lover’s wound, but she didn’t have any other choice. She’d been in the room the whole time watching every one of his movements, how two men closed the cut on his stomach with five stitches. It surprised her to see many more scars on his torso, but it also gave her hope that this was going to be one more scar and he was going to be just fine.

“He will be, sweetheart,” Daenerys rolled her eyes but kept them focused on the unconscious man lying down in front of her. She squeezed his hand to try to find any response from him, but he didn’t even move. Tormund told her the cut wasn’t that deep, but if it wasn’t, why didn’t he wake up to feel the alcohol on the wound or the stitches cutting through his flesh? “Jon’s tough, this is nothing for him.”

She looked over her shoulder to see Tormund and his two friends standing near the door as three Dothraki stood in the corner. “I’ll take it from here.”

Tormund arched an eyebrow. “We’re not leaving till he wakes up.”

“So now you care about him? We were here in the first place to make a deal with you because you wanted to break in his townhome to destroy everything.”

Daenerys knew she shouldn’t be snapping at him – not after they helped Jon and considering they could attack them any time they wanted, but the anger inside her was too much to hold it back. She was angry at the whole situation; at Jon not waking up, at how pale he looked, at how ready he was to leave her and his family for his people’s sake… at how _fucked up_ the meeting was.

Tormund frowned slightly. “Jon saved me. He could have run, take his people and yours, but he didn’t. He stayed to help us. We don’t forget that.” She only stared at him in silence, not fully trusting these people’s honor. The redheaded man eventually sighed and nodded towards her. “But we’ll let you be. We’re going to be in the room next to this one, if anything happens.”

Dany looked back at Jon and heard them walking out as the door closed behind her. He had his black shirt on again, but she moved it up to see the closed cut. A sigh escaped from her lips, not wanting to imagine what would have happened if she didn’t come in the shed. The Dothraki were trying to hold her back, telling her she couldn’t go in there, but the fire was starting to spread _all_ over the place, Jon wasn’t going to be able to get out in time. She’d run into it right when Jon collapsed to the ground with a hand painted with blood on his stomach and fire all behind him. Tormund and a few Dothraki followed her and helped her get him out.

Hadn’t she gotten in, he would have passed out right there with no one to take him out. If losing blood didn’t kill him, the fire would have.

Her hand moved up to rest on his cheek. He was cold to the touch. Dany looked at the small clock on the nightstand, seeing it was midnight already. She checked her phone to see a text from Missandei asking her if everything was okay, after she’d sent her a text saying they were going to stay the night in the Wall. She knew her friend could sense something was wrong, but she didn’t have the strength to tell her everything that happened.

_“It’s fine. Are the boys asleep already?”_

Daenerys sighed and shifted her gaze back to Jon, knowing she wasn’t going to be able to have any rest as long as Jon was unconscious. Still, she moved to his other side of bed and buried herself inside the sheets, snuggling against his side and laying her head on his chest, her right hand holding on to his left one, not wanting to let go.

Her phone vibrated on her other hand as she gave it one glance.

_“Yes. They were a bit upset they couldn’t see you before bed but nothing a story about dragons couldn’t mend :)”._

She smiled at the screen and saved the phone back in the pocket of her jacket. She looked up to see Jon’s face but sighed to find him still asleep. She rested her head back on his chest and looked down at their interviewed hands, remembering how afraid she’d been the whole time for him… of losing him.

It panicked her to see the blood coming out from his cut, not knowing what to do about it, or if it was too deep and he wasn’t going to make it. The desperation and pain she had felt for _him_ … she didn’t like it, because it showed her much she cared about him, how she couldn’t bear the single thought of losing him. She kept it together inside the car with his head on her lap, no tears would come out as she’d run her fingers over and over again through his dark curls, trying to tell herself that it was going to be okay, that Jon couldn’t die.

But the idea that there was even a possibility that he could die…

It was foolish of him to try to be all brave, first trying to sacrifice himself to save Winterfell and then to stop the Night King and give everyone time to get out.  A small smile tugged in her lips, knowing she loved that of him as much as it upset her. He was not only kind and good and handsome but sensitive and brave and selfless. He’d do anything for those who he loved. Was there _anything_ wrong about him?

He was too perfect. That was what was wrong.

Daenerys frowned as she looked up to his face again, wondering if it could be possible that she…

_No_. She shook her head slightly and put it back on his chest, knowing it couldn’t be possible. It was too soon to even think about that. She just cared about him – a lot. That was all.

**I**

“I’ve been calling Jon since last night and he never answered, where is he?!” A few seconds passed before she added, “What the fuck?!”

Rhaegal, Viserion and Drogon widened their eyes to hear such curse, but kept hearing all the same. They were playing hide and seek with Rickon; he was the one counting and the three brothers happened to hide in the same place; Arya’s room. Drogon was under the bed, Rhaegal was inside the closet and Viserion was behind the curtains.

They thought Rickon had caught them when Arya walked in her room, phone on ear, looking very upset from Rhaegal’s angle. He could see both his brothers and had to put a finger on his mouth towards Viserion’s way for him to not say anything – it looked like Arya was angry and if she found out they were hiding in her room she would be even angrier.

“Don’t ask me to calm down when Jon’s been stabbed, Daenerys!” Arya kept walking back and forth in the middle of the room. “I want to talk to him. What do you mean he’s not awake yet? Listen, you can just tell me the truth…” Rhaegal watched as the girl stopped walking and took a deep breath. “Is he dead? … Okay… but I’m still going to there, Uncle Benjen will know how to get there. Yes I am going! I’ll see you there in two hours or so.” She saved her phone in the pocket of her jeans and looked around. “Shit.” She took a blue jacket that was on her bed and ran off.

As soon as the Stark was out of the room, the three six years old came out from their hiding. Shock was spread all over their faces as Viserion was the first one to be close to the tears.

“Is Jon dead? That’s what she said?”

Rhaegal frowned, angry that he would even say that. “He’s not dead! He’s been stabbed, he’s hurt!”

“And mama is with him, what if she’s hurt, too?” Drogon asked, a bit of fear showing in his orange eyes before his features hardened as he shook his head. “I want to be with mama.”

“Me too!” Viserion protested, taking a fist to his eyes to wipe away the tears that were building up. “But they’re not here in Winterfell.”

“I don’t think mama’s hurt,” Rhaegal answered to Viserion, for he still didn’t talk to Drogon. “But Jon is. He won’t die because Jon is a hero and heroes don’t die, but we have to be with him.”

“I hope you’re right…” Viserion looked back and forth between his brothers. “What we do now?”

Rhaegal shook his head, not knowing what to say since nothing was coming up to his mind. Drogon, on the other hand, turned around and walked towards the window; he was worried, not only for his mama but for Jon, too. He wasn’t going to admit it but he was fond of him; he didn’t want him to die, even if he wanted to be his mama’s girlfriend and lied to him about being just friends, he helped him get on a horse… he was good. He wanted to be with his mama _and_ Jon.

His orange eyes narrowed to look out the window and see Ghost jumping in the back of Mr. Stark’s truck, as if he was ready to leave. A smirk started to slowly draw on his lips.

He turned around to look at his brothers. “I know how to get to mama and Jon.”

**II**

Jon moved his head to the side, his eyes slowly blinking as his vision was blurry. He blinked and blinked until the figure sitting in front of him was clear; it was Daenerys, holding his hand as a mix of relief and concern flashed across her face. He frowned as he looked up, not recognizing the place where they were.

“Where… are we?” He cleared his throat to hear his voice so hoarse.

“Jon,” he heard Daenerys breathing out in a whisper before she threw herself to him and he groaned in pain to feel a burden on the side of his stomach, though his arms wrapped around her almost by instinct. “You’re awake.”

It was when she moved away and her face was close to his that he noticed the tears shimmering in her purple eyes, the way her bottom lip was starting to tremble. He was going to ask her if she was okay, but was cut off by her lips catching his own in a firm but deep kiss.

His hands felt her shoulders relaxing as he kissed her back, as if she needed to feel him there. He could feel she was scared – could have something happened to her?

Jon broke apart; his eyes searching for any bruise on her angelical and perfect face, but finding none. “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”

Confusion was shown in her eyes for a moment. “No. _You_ were hurt. You’ve been unconscious all night, I thought…”

Oh. She was scared… but for him.

“I’m fine,” he had the need to reassure her to see the fear wasn’t going away from her face, he recognized the way her eyebrows knitted in together because of it. “I’m fine, Dany, really.”

The worry suddenly disappeared as amusement replaced it. “Dany? You never called me that.”

“You don’t like it?”

Her smile only grew as she shook her head. “I like it,” she kissed him softly and slowly this time, no worries in. Jon smiled between her lips, but when he tried to sit up to bring her closer to him, a piercing pain hit him on the stomach again, making him move away and groan.  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry… your cut. You have to rest.”

“Cut?” He rolled up his shirt to see the wound that was there, sealed with stitches. It wasn’t that large; he’d seen worse. He remembered their surroundings and looked back at her in confusion. “Where are we? What happened?”

“You passed out after the Night King cut you and you’ve been out since last night… it’s morning already. We’re at some motel because you weren’t going to make it to the hospital… so Tormund thought it was a good idea to put you stitches on the wound here before it was too late.”

“Tormund?”

Dany sighed. “Yes, I know. I don’t fully trust him either but we didn’t have another choice. I thought that since you seemed to trust him in there when the White Walkers appeared…”

“No, it’s okay,” he agreed with her. “I do trust him with that. I know their honor. We helped them… they helped us. I just don’t know if that’s enough for Winterfell…”

“You were going to trade your life in that deal you were about to make with him,” he was well aware of the anger her words carried as it was shown in her eyes. “You can’t do that, Jon. What about your family; your brothers and sisters?”

“They’re exactly the reason I was going to do it. And for the whole town,” he couldn’t understand how she didn’t see it. She knew her position was different; she had her children to look after, they were always the priority in her life, but his brothers and sisters were able to move on without him. “I’d do anything to protect them.”

“It shouldn’t be at the cost of your life,” Daenerys fought back. “And I’m sure your brothers and sisters wouldn’t agree with it, either. You’re not alone anymore. Your family needs you.” A silence settled in the room, for they knew they weren’t going to change the other’s mind. “We’ll find another way. You defeated that… Night King, that has to mean something for them.”

“Yeah,” he sat up straight, ready to get up. “I’ll go talk to Tormund and then we can go.”

Dany put a hand on his chest, putting him back down. “You have to rest, Jon, and if there’s a place you have to go, is the hospital.”

“No,” Jon was quick to shake his head. “I don’t need the entire North knowing about this. I’m fine.”

She frowned, starting to realize how stubborn this man was. “What’s so wrong with the North knowing you’re hurt because you defended them?”

Jon pursed his lips and shook his head lightly. “It’s not about that. Everyone thought the White Walkers were gone… they have to keep believing that or they will… freak out. Besides…” he avoided her eyes by looking down for a moment. “We don’t need everyone talking about us… even more than they already do.”

“Us?” Daenerys was taken back by that, for she’d never thought of people talking about them in a bad way… or she never cared about it anyway. “Why do you care about what everyone says about us, Jon? I’ve been in Winterfell for almost a week, I’m pretty sure they have a lot to talk about by now.”

He met her eyes again, with a calmness and softness she missed seeing. “They don’t need to know about us being together yet, Dany. Not until we know that…”

His voice trailed off and it took her a moment to realize what he was trying to say. Of course. It made sense. He didn’t want everyone to know about them in case it didn’t work out; the press would love to know about Daenerys Targaryen and Jon Snow being together for like two weeks and then breaking up.

Jon reached out for her hand to get her attention. “We can hold it off till you win the trial against Cersei.”

Daenerys gave him a small smile but didn’t want to answer to that, for she didn’t care about Cersei or anyone talking about their relationship if you could call it that way, even though they still didn’t put a name to it. She understood it was too soon but she wanted everyone to know, to show them Jon chose _her_. But it was true she couldn’t act like a hopeless romantic teenager; they both had a reputation to hold.

“You want to keep resting or you want me to call Tormund?”

Jon grinned. “I would like to keep resting here with you…” his grin faded as he let out a small sigh. “But I have to talk to Tormund… see how things are between us.”

Dany nodded, agreeing with him. “I’ll tell the Dothraki to come in, too…”

Jon knew she was right to not trust Tormund but he didn’t believe he could harm him now… not after they helped them with the White Walkers and he saved his life, if he still knew who used to be his friend, but they had to take precautions. He nodded as she leant it to kiss him – he contained himself in giving everything into the kiss, knowing he wanted more; it was the perfection occasion. They were alone, with no one to bother them, but as he moved to put his hand on the back of her neck, his wound reminded him that it wasn’t the moment.

He held back the groan of pain as she pulled away and got up to leave. There was a new kind of feeling inside him to just know she’d been here with him the whole night, by his side, waiting for him to wake up, worrying for him. He couldn’t understand how lucky he was to have such woman caring that much for him.

The feeling only grew to see Daenerys flashing him a smile before walking out the door.

Jon looked around the room once he was alone. It looked to be a cheap motel, one that he was starting to remember being in a few years ago when he was part of the Free Folk. They didn’t stay in many motels back then, the Free Folk were as wild as it could get and they loved to camp in the woods, it was rare the days they’d like to settle in a motel. But it’d always be cheap ones, motels that they could get in without paying anything because the people were too scared of them.

His attention was back at the door when Tormund and two Dothraki walked in. Jon tried to sit up a bit more straight as the redheaded man cleared his throat and stepped closer to his bed, giving him a short nod.

“You had quite the nap.”

Jon smiled to himself; he kind of missed his humor. “I think I deserved it after the fight back there…” he gestured him to take a seat on the single chair that was next to the bed. Tormund considered it for a moment before sitting down, looking very rigid. “So what now? Do you really want to keep this stupid and unnecessary rivalry?”

Tormund eyed him suspiciously for a few seconds. “You saved my life. You stayed to help us.”

Jon nodded. “Yes I did.”

“Even though I threatened your town, your family.”

“Yes… because it was the right thing to do. You were my friend, once. You were Ygritte’s family. I’ll never forget that.”

Tormund was silent and Jon let him, knowing he needed to process his words. After long minutes passed, he looked up at him, his blue eyes showing his determination and seriousness about whatever was going through his mind.

“You have to be honest with me, Snow, swear it on your honor. I owe you my life, so I won’t kill you for it, but you need to tell me the truth. Did you betray us that day? Was it you?”

“No.” Jon was quick to answer; he’d been honest from day one, he just hoped that it wouldn’t have to get to this for Tormund to believe him. “I would have never betrayed you. And if I could go back and take a different road, I would.” The image of Ygritte’s lifeless body in his arms made him swallow hard, as he tried to clear that off of his mind. “Believe me. I would.”

Tormund took his time to answer back. “Good. We’re settled.”

Jon arched an eyebrow. “We are?”

“You saved my ass, I helped save yours. You didn’t betray us and saved my men… I spare your town.”

Jon reached out his hand, knowing the other man would understand. Tormund glared down at his hand with coldness in his eyes, but soon the coldness was gone as he shook his hand. It took him almost dying but Jon was glad they were at peace at last.

“So… your new girlfriend,” the redheaded gestured with his now free hand towards the door. “She’s annoying but got some tempter and likes to set places on fire. I might like her.”

Jon laughed slightly. Who would say he’d be laughing with his old friend who happened to be his enemy just a day ago? “She’s not my girlfriend. Not really.”

“Looked like it to me,” Tormund shrugged. “She didn’t leave your side for anything. Even didn’t want to leave when my men were cleaning up your cut.”

“Would you blame her, though? You wanted to kill me and destroy my hometown just yesterday,” Jon shrugged; an amused smile appeared on his lips to see a same one on the other man’s face.

Daenerys broke in the room as the smile faded quickly from Jon’s face to see the distress and desperation written all over her face as she took deep breaths.

“My children. They’re missing.”

**III**

“Mama is going to be so mad at us.”

“Shhhh! They’re going to hear us!”

“But I’m bored and cold, are we there yet?”

“I don’t know but shut up, Viserion!”

Viserion groaned, cuddling his head up as much as he could against Ghost’s side, enjoying the warm of his fur. He was beginning to regret this new adventure his brothers dragged him in; their mama was going to be _really_ mad because they ran away from the Starks’ house. Drogon and Rhaegal were already grounded but she was going to ground him too for this.

And it was cold.

And they hadn’t spoken in like… a very long time because Mr. Stark and Arya could hear them. He was glad that they had a big blanket above them to hide and cover them, and Ghost as pillow, but it was still cold. He hated the cold.

He looked back and forth between his brothers, since he was in the middle. “Are we there yet?”

“Viserion,” Drogon whispered, clearly annoyed. “You are going to ruin the plan if you keep talking. So shut up or…”

“Don’t talk to him like that,” Rhaegal frowned at his brother across him.

Drogon sent a death-glare to his way. “I can do whatever I want. He’s my brother.”

“He’s my brother too.” Rhaegal fought back as Viserion rolled his eyes and let out a sigh, knowing where this was going to end up. “And my best friend!”

“He is my best friend, too, the nicest brother I have!” Drogon stuck out his tongue to him.

“That’s because he’s nice to everyone, but he likes me more!”

“Not everyone likes you more; I’m the big brother here so he likes me more!”

“That’s not true because you’re always mean to him!”

“I am not mean to him, I am mean to you because you’re so annoying!”

Rhaegal opened his mouth offended and was quick to throw his hands to Drogon, both of them starting to hit the other’s hands and arms all over their brother’s body.  Viserion heard Ghost sniffing above the blanket that was hiding them as he had to bear up with his brothers trying to hit each other on top of him.

“Stop fighting…” Viserion whispered, trying his best to get their hands off of each other. “Stop,” one of them, he couldn’t figure out who, slapped his hand which made him groan in pain. He had enough of his brothers’ stupid fights. “STOP FIGHTING!” He yelled, pulling them both apart in a second.

The three of them felt as the car stopped; they didn’t dare to move, waiting for Mr. Stark and Arya to get down from the car and walk away so they could get walk down too. It looked like they’d arrived to whatever place their mama and Jon were in. They waited and waited, till the blanket was suddenly taken off of them as they found Arya looking down at them.

“What the hell are you guys doing here?!”

**IV**

“Daenerys, please, calm down.”

“I can’t calm down, Jon, my kids are missing!” Daenerys almost yelled, walking back and forth in the middle of the room and looking down at her phone, trying to dial some numbers but her hands were shaking so much it was difficult to do so.

“Dany!” Jon took her by her arms when she snapped around for the tenth time. She was shocked to see him up on his feet; she didn’t even realize him getting up. All she could think of was Cersei somehow taking her children. “I know this is hard but you need to tell me what they told you.”

“Missandei…” she swallowed hard and took a deep breath, noticing that Tormund and the Dothraki weren’t in the room anymore. “Missandei called me and told me the kids were playing hide and seek with Rickon and they can’t find them anywhere… Rickon’s been looking for them for about half an hour thinking they were just hiding but they’re not and –”

She felt the sob wanting to rip through her throat when Jon wrapped his strong arms around her, holding her tight to his chest. It was her fault; she should have been there. Maybe Cersei thought that it was the perfect moment to take them now that they weren’t home.

“What do you feel?”

Dany looked up at him, wiping away the tears that were about to leave the corners of her eyes. “What?”

“You told me you have a strong connection with your children. You can feel when they’re in pain or scared, I’ve seen you reacting to that. What do you feel now? Are they in danger?”

Daenerys frowned, for she hadn’t thought of that because she felt… nothing. She didn’t feel anything related to negativity; she didn’t feel they were scared or in pain or in danger. That was something good… but if someone took them, they should be scared.

“No, I…”

Her phone started ringing and she looked down to it, ready for it to be Missandei but Arya’s name was shown on the screen instead. She didn’t have time to think in anything that wasn’t her children so she handed the phone to Jon.

“It’s your sister.”

Jon was quick to pick up. “Arya. Yeah, it’s Jon, but listen, I can’t talk right now. Daenerys’ children are missing from home.” Dany watched as he frowned and titled his head in confusion. “Wait what? But… they’re okay? Okay… you should head back home. Arya, yes, you can’t just take them to here because – Arya? Arya!” He moved the phone from his ear and sighed, but looked up at her with a new relief filling his eyes. “The kids are with Arya and my uncle.”

“What?!”

“Apparently they snuck in the back of my uncle’s car because they knew Arya and my uncle were coming to us… and they wanted to be with us.”

“Oh my god,” Dany breathed in and out, hand on her chest, feeling a new tears of happiness were gathering up in her eyes. “So they’re fine? They’re safe.”

Jon gave her a soft smile along with a nod. “Yes. I tried to tell Arya to come back home but she says she’s half through the way and she’s not coming back now. So I guess they’re all going to be here soon.”

“Oh god, Jon,” she let out a big sigh and stepped closer to him to rest her forehead on his chest. She smiled slightly to feel his lips against her forehead and arms around her back. “I was already thinking that Cersei…”

“I think your kids are a lot smarter than Cersei in fooling your guards,” she looked up to find the smirk she knew there was going to be on his lips. “They’re safe with my family. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Rhaegal had fooled her guards three times by now, and dragging his brothers with him in the last one. These kids were going to kill her one day and they were only six years old; what was in store for her when they reached their teenager years?

“I’m going to call Arya, I want to speak with them…” she was about to look for the Stark girl’s number but she stared at him and frowned. “You should be resting.”

“Dany, I’m fine…”

“I know you are but you need to rest,” she made him turn around and pushed his back towards the bed.

Jon lay down on bed and moved aside to have a little space for her to sit next to him. Dany smiled and lay down next to him, her chin resting on his chest so she could have her eyes on him.

“If I can rest like this forever, I will rest as much as you want.”

She let him run his finger from her chin to her cheek, gently rubbing his cold thumb against her warm skin. She was aware that her skin was hot to the touch; it seemed to get warmer when she got truly upset. She stared into his dark eyes in silence, for she felt peaceful whenever they looked at her with such calmness.

She wanted to tell him that she’d been so scared to lose him… that she realized she cared for him far more than she thought, but instead something else came out from her mouth.

“I’m staying more days.”

Jon was taken back by that. “You are?”

“Of course. I’m not leaving until I know, for sure, that cut is cicatrized.”

She frowned slightly to see him a bit conflicted about something but knew that he’d tell her eventually, so she let him be silent. Like she thought, he cleared his throat and looked down at her, this time with nervousness in his dark gaze.

“Can I ask you something? You’re not forced to answer, though, because I know it may not be the right moment, the best place, that it may be too soon but –”

Dany almost chuckled at his babbling. “Jon, what is it?”

“Do you… want to… be my girlfriend?”

Jon felt stupid for feeling his hands sweating and his heart beating faster in his chest to such childish question… but his nervousness had a point when he saw the smile suddenly falling from Daenerys’ lips. That was stupid of him; he should have kept his mouth shut, why couldn’t he wait more? She obviously needed more time and he should have seen that.

He swallowed and looked away for a moment, trying to make this situation less awkward. “Never mind, I –”

“Yes.”

Jon looked back at her, utterly confused. “What?”

“I said yes,” Daenerys repeated, the light returning to her purple eyes as her lips turned up into a smile. “I want to be your girlfriend, Jon Snow.”

She noticed he was still confused by her answer, so she had to move slightly up a bit more to catch his lips in hers and put her hands on the sides of his face, wanting to take any doubt he had from his mind. She smiled to feel his lips parting in to let her in.

The question had taken her off of guard, but that wasn’t bad. It was just that… no man had ever asked her such innocent and pure question. Daario wanted, almost demanded, more from her, things that she didn’t want to give him. Viserys didn’t let her have a say on dating Drogo or not, and even if Drogo proposed to her himself, she knew she didn’t have many options in the matter.

Jon was different. He was too nervous to even ask about it, even told her she wasn’t forced to answer it. She never thought he’d ask her that, for that was something she daydreamed in her childhood of a boy asking her.

It wasn’t too soon. It was the right moment for her; for it didn’t only mean it was official they were together. Daenerys knew there was no point in denying it anymore, there was no escape from it; it was time for her to accept that it was official that she was in love with Jon Snow.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Can we ignore the fact that I've disappeared for one month or more?*
> 
> I am so so so sorry. In my defense, first I had exams (+a lot of homework, like a lot) for three weeks, and then I just didn't have the inspiration to write, I was so stuck... so I'm sorry, but good news is;
> 
> I'M BACK FOR GOOD! There's only 1 exam left like in the middle of July and then I get a three weeks winter break at last.
> 
> To people that don't remember much what happened in last chapter; the kids escaped to go see Jon and Daenerys in the back of Benjen Stark's car after finding out Jon was hurt, and Jon and Dany became an official couple.
> 
> The chapter ahead is not so long but I wanted to update as soon as possible.
> 
> Thank you for all your comments and I am sorry again. I hope I still hear your thoughts on the story :)

“… three months. Do you know how long three months are?”

Three heads were shaken from side to side and only the bronze haired one dared to look up. “Is it too long?”

Daenerys sighed, resisting their puppy eyes and trying her best to show them she was serious. She was beyond relieved that they were safe but they had to learn that running away was not an answer – they were six years old for god’s sake and one of them had already managed to fool her security guards three times.

“Yes, it’s too long. Do you even know the consequences of what you’ve done? Missandei and Sansa were ready to call the police,” she almost smiled to see their eyes growing wild at the mention of the police. Good. Something that could scare them.

“The police?” Viserion babbled. “But mama, we just wanted to be with Jon, we don’t want to go to jail!”

“No one is going to jail.” Daenerys concluded, because it was good for them to be scared of something but letting them believe they could go to jail was too much. “But the police would have been very mad if they found out you just snaked away, do you understand?”

“Yes, mama.” They all said in unison.

“Good. Now you’ll wait for me here.”

Rhaegal winkled his nose. “But can we see Jon?”

“Arya’s with him, you’ll see him soon.”

Drogon titled his head as Dany knew he wanted to say something so she waited. “But is he okay?”

Despite all the anger and worry she still held inside, it warmed her heart to see her children so worried about Jon, even Drogon – it meant they truly cared about him… enough to run away and try to travel in the back of a trunk without being noticed. She gave them a small smile this time, knowing that would comfort them.

“Jon is okay… he was just a bit hurt, but nothing serious.”

Daenerys walked out the room, leaving three smiling children behind. As soon as she closed the door behind her, she was met with Arya walking out of Jon’s room which was next door.

“How is he?”

The seventeen year old shrugged. “Fine. I thought the cut would be deeper but that’s fine for him… he’s mostly sleepy, said he took a pill that Tormund gave him. I can’t believe he trusts him now.”

“Me neither, but Jon knows what he’s doing. I wanted to apologize for my kids sneaking in your uncle’s trunk…”

Arya laughed slightly. “They have to be the sneakiest kids I’ve ever known, even more than Jon and Robb, and that’s something.”

Dany shook her head. “I just don’t know what else to do with them; I don’t even know how they can get through my security guards…”

“They’re very sneaky and smart yes,” the girl agreed, knowing she wouldn’t like to be on Daenerys’ shows when these kids grew up. “It’s a good thing they ended up in my uncle’s truck and no one else’s.”

Daenerys looked around them, noticing that there were a few Free Folk inside their cars drinking beer and eating pizza, the Dothraki in another corner of the place with their motorcycles, but there was no trace of Benjen Stark’s truck.

“Ah, my uncle, he’s off to get an actual doctor to check up on Jon, he has some contacts around here…”

Dany sighed in relief. “That’s so good to hear. I’ve been trying to convince him to see a doctor but he just refuses.”

Arya rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that’s Jon; always thinking he can do and resist everything.”

Daenerys smiles slightly at that and was about to answer back hadn’t she felt a pull in her jeans. She looked down to see the blonde-cream hair that one of her sons had.

“Mama, can we see Jon, pretty please?” Her eyes moved behind him to see Drogon and Rhaegal with their heads poked out the door, waiting for her answer, probably knowing that if any of them could change her mind, that would be Viserion. She looked down to her youngest son and felt defeated to his puppy golden eyes. “We won’t ask for anything else, we promise!”

“Jon is sleeping now…” she said as if that was enough for them, but Viserion kept staring at her, waiting for more. She looked back and forth from him to his brothers, and knew that they _needed_ to see Jon was okay for them to be calm. “Okay. You can see him but you have to be really quiet because he needs to rest, do you understand?”

“Yes!” Drogon and Rhaegal yelled as they ran out of the room.

Arya suppressed a laugh. “I’ll call Sansa,” she told Dany before walking away.

Daenerys took her sons to Jon’s room, not before reminding them to be quiet; her boyfriend – how strange yet so right that felt – was lying down on bed with his eyes closed, still resting. She looked down to her kids, seeing how serious they’d taken her words by walking slowly to him, watching him carefully.

“Jon?” Rhaegal asked quietly, his little hand almost reaching out to touch his arm.

Jon blinked a few times before fully opening his eyes and meeting three pair of eyes of different colors watching him with such surprise it made him frown before his lips turned up, remembering these three kids did everything in their power to get to him because they were _that_ worried.

“Hey buddies,” he smiled at them and tried to sit up as much as he could. Viserion was the first one to come up to him and hug him as much as he could, encircling his arm with his little arms.

“I thought you were going to die, Jon!”

Jon saw the way his bottom lip trembled and he already knew what that meant. He was quick to put a hand on the boy’s head to mess with his hair. “That’s not happening, buddy, don’t worry.”

Rhaegal folded his arms and shook his head determined. “I told him you weren’t dead because you’re a hero and heroes don’t die.”

“Hero?” He couldn’t help the eyebrow arching on his face; his eyes moved behind the kids to his mother, seeing the surprise as well in her features, but being quickly replaced by a soft smile which he returned. He didn’t feel like one, but it made him incredibly proud that these kids viewed him as one. “Why thank you, Rhaegal, I’m honored.”

“What happened to you?” Drogon asked this time, orange eyes narrowing in curiosity. “Bad guys attacked you?”

Jon nodded. “Sort of.”

The three boys looked amused by it, yet it was Drogon who kept asking. “How did you defeat them?”

“I, uh…” he tried to look for help in Daenerys, not knowing how much he could tell them.

“Jon had a sword fight with the bad guys’ leader,” she kept on, gaining her children’s attention, as if she was about to tell the most interesting bedtime story. She was hesitant in letting them know that there was fire involved, but ended up deciding to skip it, not wanting to feed their obsession with it. “The Dothraki and the Free Folk fought with the others, they defeated them, Jon won against the big bad guy and everything turned out fine.”

“Though your mother helped a lot, too,” Jon added and hoped they wouldn’t ask how, but he didn’t want them to miss the opportunity to think of their mother as a hero, too. “She used… some things inside the shed that ended the fight. I couldn’t have done it without her.”

Daenerys gave him an amused look with a rising smile on her lips. Meanwhile, the kids’ eyes were wide as ever. “Awesome!”

“But why were you hurt, Jon?” Viserion looked back at him with curiosity and still a bit of fear.

“Well, the bad guy… hurt me a bit with his sword, but nothing much.”

“Do you have a scar?” Drogon asked with a finger under his chin; when Jon nodded his head, his eyes widened even more. “Can we see it?! Please!”

Jon looked up at Daenerys, seeking for her approval. It didn’t surprise him boys were interested in seeing scars and he didn’t think it was that bad for them not to see, but that would be up to their mother. He needed only one nod from the blonde woman to pull his black shirt up a bit and watch as the boys’ mouths opened in surprise.

Viserion looked a bit disgusted by it; Rhaegal seemed to be intrigued by it as Drogon looked to find it fascinating.

“That’s amazing,” the black haired boy whispered. “I hope to have one too when I’m grown.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Daenerys said quickly, not wanting to go through the experience of her teenager or adult son being stabbed to get that scar. She walked over to them and put her hands on Rhaegal’s head. “Now come on, Jon has to keep resting.”

“I don’t mind,” he was quick to say. “I can wait with them for that doctor my uncle is going to get,” Dany noticed the frustration in his voice as she didn’t understand how stubborn he could be with seeing a doctor.

“And you can tell us more about the sword fighting!” Rhaegal excitedly said.

Daenerys was a bit conflicted, wanting them to remember that they were grounded, but knowing they deserved to be with Jon as much as they could since they were truly worried for him.

“Alright,” she ended up answering. “I’ll go see how things are outside and I’ll come back. Be good to Jon, boys, he really needs to rest.”

“Yes, mama!”

She had to pull aside the need to go over to Jon to kiss him before leaving like she’d done for the past hours, instead she gifted them a knowing smile to him before walking out, hearing them starting to ask questions about the fight to him.

**I**

After the doctor that Benjen Stark managed to get to check on Jon and that he assured them he was fine but he needed to rest, preferably in his home and be checked on again in a week, Jon kept telling stories to the kids about the bad guys that they all defeated.  It wasn’t long before the three young Targaryen were passed out in the bed, snuggling against each other.

“So we let them rest a little bit more and we go to your home?” Daenerys moved up her head from his shoulder, being confident to be close to him once her children were sound asleep – nothing could wake them after being exhausted, and she was sure as hell that the trip they had from Winterfell to here was enough for them to pass out.

“It’s okay for me,” he smirked at her and put his hands on her sides, bringing her closer. “Unless you want to stay more?”

Dany smiled as her finger interviewed with one of his black curls. “I’d love to, but I think I prefer the luxury of your home.”

“Good point, girlfriend,” he whispered the last word, not trusting as much as Daenerys did that her sons wouldn’t wake up with their voices. He started to believe her when she leant in to kiss him, knowing she wouldn’t do that if she wasn’t so sure.

“Thank you, boyfriend,” she whispered back against his lips and moved her head to her children out of habit.

Viserion was lying on his side in the middle of his brothers, his thumb near his mouth; Rhaegal was the one closer to Jon, taking more space than his brothers as he always had to have his arms and legs stretched out. Drogon was on Viserion’s other side, as he only had to stretch his legs to feel comfortable when he slept.

Dany was sitting on Jon’s other side, almost cuddling against him but not wanting to test her luck too much, so she just sat very close to him. She reached out to clear Rhaegal’s face from a bunch of bronze hair that kept getting near his eyes.

“He told me he’s pretty excited about his loose tooth and the Tooth Fairy,” Jon commented as he watched her caressing her son’s hair.

Daenerys smiled, remembering Rhaegal telling them all excited about his loose tooth. It made her almost tear up to see him moving the tooth with his tongue… he was the first of the three to have his first teeth, making it a nightmare for her as he was surely in so much in pain and therefore always so grumpy and crying at the first chance he had.

“They’re growing up so fast; it seems like yesterday that…” her words trailed off as she remembered in front of whom she was speaking..

“That you were pregnant with them?” Jon tried to finish for her. “Yeah, sometimes time goes fast…” she _wanted_ to tell him, but she couldn’t at the moment, not when her children were there – even if they were sound asleep, that was a risk she’d never take. “Is something wrong?”

She was going to tell him, but not now. “No, no. You’re right. Time goes fast.”

Ghost, honoring his name as always, lying down in the corner of the room in silence since he arrived, moved his head up and walked over to the bed, being careful to jump on it but away from the kids, like he knew. He sniffed Daenerys’ feet and snuggled against them before closing his eyes again.

“I take it that he likes me?” Daenerys joked with an eyebrow raised.

Jon shrugged. “He’s always liked you but now that it’s official he can show it to you.”

Dany rolled her eyes. “Like he knows it’s official.”

He arched an eyebrow, pretending to look offended. “Of course he knows. I know it can sound weird but every one of us has a strong connection with our wolves. They somehow know things we can’t even explain.”

She noticed the way he grew a bit serious about his words so she nodded. “I believe you. How can you explain that the Targaryens are resistant to fire anyway?”

“Easy. You are magical.”

Unaware to them, Rhaegal moved his head and started blinking as he yawned.

 “Magical? So you Starks have magical bonds with the wolves and I have magical… skin against the fire?” She trailed along with his joke with an amused smile. “So what are we? A magical couple?”

“I like it,” his smirk widened. “The magical couple of Westeros.”

Rhaegal was full awake to hear that and watched just in time as Jon kissed his mother… on the lips. His green eyes grew wild as his mouth dropped to then form a huge smile.

“You are a couple!” He didn’t measure the tone of voice as he yelled it, startling the two adults and waking his brothers up. He sat straight up and looked to Viserion, shaking him to fully wake him. “They’re boyfriend and girlfriend, Viserion! They’re a couple!”

Jon and Daenerys were shocked as never; they watched as Viserion woke up to hug his brother like they had just won something. Drogon was sitting up, fists scratching his eyes as he looked confused from his brothers to the couple.

Daenerys had imagined all the ways possible to tell her sons about her and Jon, trying to not give them false hopes about anything, trying to use the right words to not make them angry, but she could have never, ever, thought that she’d see them happy as she’d never seen them, to know that she and Jon were together.


	15. Chapter 15

Once again, the Targaryen boys sat side by side, looking up at their mother, waiting for her upcoming lecture… but Rhaegal was too happy to care about it, even if Drogon was clearly upset for what they’d heard and Viserion was afraid of their mother grounding them again.

Daenerys stood in front of her kids, hands on hips, but looked to her right – to Jon standing by her side, not knowing how to start. She didn’t know if explain more what they’d heard or ask them why they spoke of it like it was something they’d waited for so long. Except for Drogon of course; it was obvious the oldest boy didn’t like this… at all, showing it with the big frown on his face, the angry pout and arms folded against his chest.

“So… how much you know about this?”

“Everything,” Viserion was fast to answer.

“Nothing.” Rhaegal said at the same time, glaring at his brother as he heard his words. “We’re just happy you’re together!”

Daenerys bit her bottom lip, trying to not roll her eyes. As they grew up, she’d always believed Drogon to be the trouble maker, yet it seemed he’d passed the title to his brother, with one difference; as Drogon never had a problem in admitting his mistakes, as if he felt proud of them, Rhaegal always tried to charm his way out of them.

“Viserion,” Dany focused on her youngest, knowing she could trust him with the truth. “Tell me the truth. What is going on here?”

Viserion swallowed hard, feeling his brothers’ eyes on him; he knew Drogon did it because he was mad and that Rhaegal was trying to get him to keep the secret… but now that their mama and Jon were together, there was no need to keep on with the mission.

“Well… we have a mission…” he started, seeing as his oldest brother rolled his eyes and looked away, meanwhile Rhaegal kept his glare on him, angry that he was telling it. “It’s called the Dragon-Wolf mission and it started when I heard that Jon kissed you on the mouth… which meant you liked each other like boyfriends and girlfriends do in the movies, so with Rhaegal and Rickon we started thinking of a plan to get you together so we could all be a family! And we did pretty well.” He smiled widely as he finished, proud of their work.

That was too much.

Daenerys couldn’t help her mouth parting in surprise. If Viserion was talking about her talk with Missandei after Jon kissed her that night… they’d known for days; they’d always known and said nothing – and even worse, they made a mission out of it.

Now it all made sense.

The wedding that was supposed to be Rickon’s homework, their constant need for her to be close to Jon…

She glanced over to Jon, to see an amused smirk on his lip; she gave him a look that disappeared that smirk in a second. But she didn’t know how to feel; it made her… happy that they were so accepting of Jon… should she be mad at them?

“So is it true?” Rhaegal asked excitedly. “Are you boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“I…” she looked to Jon, who could only shrug as an answer, leaving it to her. She swallowed and moved her eyes down to them; this was the first time she was going to present a boyfriend to her children. “Well, yes. We… are together.”

“You’re a liar!” Drogon exploded in a scream, getting up as he pointed his finger to Jon. “You said you were just friends!”

Dany was ready to intervene, but Jon took a step forward. “We were… friends when I told you that, I wasn’t lying about that.”

“Yes you were! Because you’ve always liked her that!” His orange eyes moved to her this time, showing off that fire he had inside. “You’re a liar, too! You always said you loved our papa, that he was the best! Traitor!”

He ran out of the room; Daenerys going right after him. The remaining boys jumped startled at the door slamming behind them; Jon frowned in worry, wanting to go after them, but knowing that this had to be just between them – no one could comfort Drogon but Daenerys.

His eyes shifted back to the children sitting in front of him in the only coach of the room. They stared back, but none of them dared to break the silence. After a few seconds, smiles broke in on their faces as their eyes lit up.

“Are we going to be a family now?” Rhaegal asked first.

“Are you going to live with us in Dragonstone? Ghost is coming, too, right? Can Rickon come, too?” Viserion paused for a moment, titling his head in curiosity. “Or are we going to live with you in your house forever?”

“When are you going to marry?” Jon raised his eyebrows, placing a hand on the back of his neck, not knowing what to answer to that – he loved Daenerys, there was no doubt about that, but talking about marriage _and_ with her kids… that was too soon. “Are you our dad now?”

_Well shit._

Jon took the nearest chair and put it in front of them to sit on it, scratching his beard as he tried to find the right words to their questions. He didn’t know what to answer, so he had to find his way out of it.

“So… a mission, huh?” both kids frowned at his words, not liking that there was no answer. “You said Rickon was on it, too? I’m sure your plans were… impressive. Want to tell me one?”

Rhaegal and Viserion eyes him suspiciously, as if they were about to figure out he was trying to change the topic… but suddenly the bronze haired boy smiled brightly and nodded with enthusiasm.

“Yes!” He seemed to spread his humor to his brother as the blonde child nodded in agreement. “Well, we planned the Wedding game, and then we got Arya to help us so she could invite our mama into that bar you guys didn’t let us go!”

Jon arched an eyebrow; his sister was part of this too? The Targaryen _and_ Stark kids had some explaining to do.

**I**

Daenerys knocked slightly on the door. “Drogon, open the door.”

“No!”

She was sure the bathroom’s door wasn’t locked; she doubted the doors from this hotel had locks, but she was trying to let him cool down a bit and giving him the chance to let her in by himself.

Dany sighed, realizing she should have handled things differently; she was too surprised and happy by Rhaegal and Viserion being okay with it that she forgot how wary Drogon was with men – his brothers were like that too, but their adoration for Jon was beyond that. For a moment, she’d hoped that Drogon was the case, too. But she should have known better.

The kid was too attached to a man that he’d never met and would never do… which was was her fault.

Daenerys opened the door and poked her head inside. There was her son, sitting inside the bathtub, eyes down, with that characteristic frown of his on.

“Drogon, sweetling…” she whispered, taking careful steps to give herself time, not knowing how to start the conversation. She sat on the edge of the bathtub and reached out to caress his head, but he pushed her hand away, without even looking up at her. She let out a small sighed and looked up, trying to find the right words. “I know you look up a lot to… Drogo,” she had to stop calling him their papa if she wanted this to work. “What I said it’s true; I loved him… a lot, but… it’s been a very, very long time since he’s gone, Drogon… and I know he’d want me to be happy.”

“You are happy,” the six year old whispered, his orange eyes moving up to meet her purple ones; they still reflected his anger and a bit of sadness, as she knew him so well. “With us. You don’t need anyone else. I don’t want anyone else! It’s just you, me, Viserion and Rhaegal. It’s always been just us.”

He looking at her in the eyes was something, at least. “I know it’s always been us, but it doesn’t have to be. Jon is good… he cares about me; he cares about you and your brothers. He even convinced me to get you on a horse again…” she smiled briefly to the memory. “We make each other happy and that’s good, don’t you think?”

“As a friend,” his frown deepened as he gazed away. “He can be our friend. He doesn’t have to be our family. He won’t be my papa.”

“Jon won’t replace your papa,” how could he if Drogo had never existed in first place in his life? She never regretted having Rhaego with her former husband, but she regretted naming him the father of her three other babies when he never earned the title. “And he being my… boyfriend doesn’t mean he can’t be your friend.”

Drogon stayed silent before looking up at her mostly in anger. “I don’t want to be friends with someone that wants my papa’s place. I’m named after him, I won’t forget about him.”

Daenerys sighed and held out her hand for him. “Can you come out from there? Please?”

The little boy stared at her hand for long seconds before letting out an exasperated and dramatic sigh and getting up, being careful to get out from the bathtub. She took his small hands between hers and brought him closer to her.

“No one is telling you to forget… what you know about Drogo,” he couldn’t forget someone he’d never met, but he shouldn’t forget about the stories about him if he didn’t want to. It was clear for her that Drogon was desperate for a paternal figure but was too inversed in his namesake to give a space for Jon. “You’re named after him because I loved him that much and I’d been happy with him, I knew you deserved his name, but that doesn’t mean you’re forced to be like him, or feeling bad for wanting someone else, sweetheart. I know you like Jon and we being together shouldn’t take that away.”

The child took his time to answer. “Jon is good and cool… I guess.”

Dany smiled, knowing that was a big step for him. She made him turn around and hugged him from behind. “He is… and he adores you. Do you trust me?” He looked at her and nodded quickly. “You know you and your brothers are the most important thing I have in my life, right?” Drogon nodded, frowning slightly confused. “Well… I trusted that Jon would take good care of you on the horse, didn’t I? Because I knew he would never let you fall, not only because he’s good and cool, but because he cares about you. I trust that he can make me – all of us, happy. And that we can make him happy, too.”

She watched as he looked thoughtful, taking in her words. She waited and waited, a bit of nervousness starting to grow in her to think that it’d been all in vain… but after a moment, Drogon looked back at her, the anger and sadness long gone from his orange eyes.

“Maybe…”

Daenerys knew that a ‘maybe’ meant more a _yes_ than a _no_ , because she knew her son wouldn’t have a problem with showing her his disapproval otherwise. She gave him a warm smile and placed a big kiss on his cheek.

“I love you, my little dragon.”

Drogon smiled back, snuggling in closer to her. “Love you too, mama.”

**II**

“How didn’t you tell me, Arya?!”

The teenager snorted in frustration, crossing her arms over her chest. “I tried talking them out of it, but you guys didn’t make it easier, either!” Jon frowned confused at her, which earned a roll from her eyes. “You kissed in the bar… and I promised them before that if you got closer I’d tell them, but if nothing happened, they’d drop that stupid mission… and a promise is a promise, Jon. More with these kids.”

“I’m not mad about their mission…” Jon whispered, dark eyes shifting to the kids in the corner of the room; Viserion was concentrated on watching his brother playing with his loose tooth, moving it back and forth with his tongue like it was the funniest thing to do. “I just… don’t know what to do with them thinking Daenerys and I are going to marry and I’m going to be their dad.”

His sister’s eyebrows drew in together in confusion. “You… don’t want that?”

“We’ve just became a… official couple you’d say. We still have much to figure out… like the fact that she should be going to the airport today to go back to her home,” he sighed, wanting to prepare himself for the moment Daenerys would come up to him to tell him she’d be going at any time now. “And I don’t want these kids’ feelings in the middle of all this.”

“These kids have been in the middle of all that since the beginning, Jon,” Arya shrugged. “But yes, you both will have to be extra careful.”

The door opened as Daenerys came in the room, with Drogon on her hip; he was a bit bigger than Viserion but still a six year old small enough to be hold by his mother. Her other two sons ran towards her as soon as they saw her.

“Mama, we’re hungry, can we get something to eat?”

“Uh, yes, of course,” Dany nodded and put Drogon down on the ground. “Go wait for me outside, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Arya patted Jon on the shoulder before walking out the room, followed by the two kids. Drogon and Daenerys, hand by hand, approached to Jon, who was still a bit nervous about the boy’s reaction, but seeing the soft smile on his girlfriend’s face relieved him.

“Drogon wants to apologize to you…” she let go of his hand and winked at Jon before walking away from them and out of the room, leaving the adult man confused.

“Sorry I called you a liar,” the little one started, playing with his hands. Jon smiled and was about to tell him it was okay, hadn’t the nervousness on the child’s features disappeared in a second to be replaced by a known hardness as he folded his arms over his chest. “But we need to talk.”

“Um, okay?”

Drogon stared at him in silence, his orange eyes feeling like actual fire to Jon; how a small kid could look so intimidating he’d never know. He swallowed hard and waited for him to speak.

“I… kind of like you, Jon. But I like mama a lot more. And I’ve seen what boys do to girls in movies, they make them cry – you can’t make my mama cry, or sad, or angry, do you understand? Mama says you make her happy so I hope you’re not like the boys in the movies.”

“I’m not,” the Stark was quick to shake his head, hands up in surrender. “I just… want all of us to be happy.”

“Good,” the boy arched an eyebrow to his way. “So you promise you won’t make my mama sad? A promise can’t be broken,” he held out his little hand for him to shake.

Now Jon knew what Arya was talking about; he couldn’t break a promise, much less to these kids. He didn’t intend in breaking this particular promise, either. “I promise.” Jon smiled and shook the small hand, frowning slightly at how warm his skin felt.

Drogon smiled proud. “Okay. And will you convince my mama to let me ride a horse again? Please?”

Jon let out a small sigh in relief. “I’ll see what I can do about that.”

“Thanks!”

The man chuckled at the change in the kid’s attitude. He turned around and ran out of the room; a long, silver-blonde hair was soon seen in the doorway. She walked inside the place, being careful to close the door behind her.

“So? How was it?”

“I’ve never felt more intimidated in my life,” she laughed out loud but he shook his head. “I’m serious. If he stays like that I’m sure no one will even dare to cross him in the wrong way.”

Daenerys rolled her eyes and came closer to him, encircling his neck with her arms to pull him into her and kiss him. “You’re exaggerating. He’s adorable when he tries to be all serious. He told me he wanted to talk with you after apologizing… because he wanted to make sure you’ll make me happy.”

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk drawing in on his lips. “Are _you_ sure about that?”

She imitated his amused face. “Are _you_?”

Jon kissed her deeply instead of answering with words, because he’d never been as sure of something. But the thought of her leaving him flashed through his mind, not in the way it’d hurt the most, but in a painful way all the same. He broke apart from her and sighed.

Dany frowned confused. “What is it?”

“We’ll be in my home in a few hours…” he started explaining, trying to see if she understood his words, which she didn’t. “And you’ll be going to your home at night or tomorrow at least?”

Daenerys moved her arms away from him. “What? What are you talking about?”

“You had to leave today, Dany, remember? What about that?”

She stared at him for what had to be a minute but felt like a lot longer… till her face broke into a smile, which turned into a laugh as she shook her head.

He frowned a bit upset she was even laughing at the situation that had him so worried. “What? What is so funny?”

“I’m sorry…” her laugh slowed down as her purple eyes looked up at him. “But do you really think I’m leaving until I’m not sure you’re okay?”

It was his time to be utterly confused. “What?”

Daenerys cupped his face with her hands, her thumbs gently caressing his skin. “I’m not going to leave until you see a doctor again in a week and they confirm that everything’s okay. We can worry about how we’re going to… work about that later.”

“But… but what about the trial? The Seven Kingdoms Company?”

“What about it? It can wait. Cersei knows she’s going to lose and the more we delay it the better for her, I’m sure she won’t have a problem with it.”

Jon was perplexed. “You’d really do that for me?”

Dany smiled and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “That, and much more.”

Jon couldn’t contain himself from pulling her closer to him by taking her from the waist and kiss her with all he had as he felt her fingers holding on to his hair, because that meant more for him than she imagined. He knew the Company was a big deal for her, yet she was ready to put that aside _for him._ No one had ever put anything that important aside for him.

“Ew!” They both broke apart quickly and looked down to find Rhaegal making a grimace at them. “I really like that you’re together now, but will you do that always? Because that’s gross.” They laughed as Dany moved away from him to take her son’s hand. “Sorry, but we’re really hungry.”

“I’m sure you are.”

Daenerys gave him a smile before walking away with Rhaegal, who started telling her how happy he was that his mission had been accomplished. Jon smiled to himself before following them, knowing he’d always be in debt with these kids for that, as he’d never been so lucky in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> Thank you for all your kudos, bookmarks and comments, I'm so happy to be back, to finally have the time to do what I love and I'm so glad you're still there to support this story :)
> 
> As we see, Miss Daenerys isn't going to leave Jon until he's recovered... but I gotta tell you the end of this -part- of the story is kind of near, but this universe has many things to explore so I was wondering if once this story is over, you'd like a sequel with one shots about particular events that I have in mind.
> 
> Also, I created a tumblr besides from my main, so if any of you has recommendations on blogs to follow, or your own blogs, just tell me because I'm eager to follow people that like Jonerys, the Targaryens and/or the Starks, or GoT/ASOIAF in general! You can find me by the url dragons-wolf; wanted to honour my boys' mission but the name was already taken so I had to manage lol.
> 
> See you soon!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI!
> 
> I'm glad I'm back this early in the week lol, thankfully I can keep up with the updates.
> 
> First of all, I didn't mean to scare you guys with this story ending so soon... I have yet to develop some things; what I wanted to say was that the end isn't that far away, but it's not like it's ending in two chapters. No way. And I'm happy most of you agreed to the sequel story, I'll be eager to start it once this part is done.
> 
> Something about the story I'd like to clear out: Drogon looks up too much to Drogon for the stories he'd heard from him, it suits with the things he likes such as horses, motorcycles and the rough attitude he also has. Daenerys started to realize her mistake in letting his admiration grow to a person he'd never met and didn't earn the title of his father... but she couldn't come up with a better idea when the kids asked about their father, which they'd done at some point. I should explain that in the story too, I know, my bad. As I answered to someone in the comments, the difference between Drogon and his brothers if that he held on to the stories about Drogo, and him being named after him makes him feel like it's something important. He's just a child; I'm sure that as he grew things will be differently. 
> 
> And about Drogo, in this story, he was bad... he was a Dothraki after all, but he never hurt Dany and his gang was the only one with moral limits, doing nothing else than stealing and killing their enemies - which is bad enough, but that was it. Why did I decide to put a limit to their crimes at least in Drogo's gang? Because then I should have changed Drogon's name on the story, becuase there's no way I could have Daenerys naming one of her babies after a rap*st. I just don't feel it right. I hope you understand.
> 
> Thank you to everyone that takes their time to read and even more comment on this story to let me know what you think, it really makes my day to see a new comment has been left here. And thank you to the ones that followed me on my new blog, I want to follow my blogs so don’t hesitate to leave your url in the comments if you want to.
> 
> I'll leave you to this fluffy chapter before the storm starts to arrive! ;)

On their first day back in Winterfell, Daenerys had to endure Tyrion’s lectures about how they were so close to getting the Company back she couldn’t wait any longer; he tried his best to convince her but she stood her ground, and eventually, her friend had to give up.

Everyone heard about the events in the Wall already; how the White Walkers weren’t gone but were now… because of Jon defeating the Night King. With their leader gone, the others didn’t have a purpose. The people of Winterfell were relieved that the Free Folk weren’t going to attack them and were at peace with the Starks… and by what Sansa told her, the word about her being involved in the fire that ended with the main gang of White Walkers reached the town as well, and according to the redhead Stark, people were starting to like her a lot better after that.

Benjen Stark invited Daenerys and her children into the dinner he made in his home to celebrate the former threat to his town was gone and nothing worse happened to Jon.

She was sitting across her boyfriend, throwing knowing glances over his way from time to time, but aware that they had to behave, for Jon wanted to tell the rest of his family by himself… considering the boys couldn’t contain themselves in telling Rickon; his brother was more than happy.

Benjen was talking about the last time that he’d seen the people of Winterfell so relieved and happy was when his father had been elected as Mayor, when Rhaegal, unable to contain his curiosity, interrupted him.

“Do you have brothers, Mr. Stark?”

A silence settled in the room, the adults present, as well as Rickon, exchanged glances with each other.

“I… had brothers. Two,” Benjen cleared his throat, putting the fork with food aside. “Brandon and Ned.”

Drogon narrowed his eyes, titling his head. “Where are they?”

“Gone,” Rickon answered him instead; the sadness was evident in his voice. “Ned was our father.”

Another silence filled the place, but this time with more pain than awkwardness. It was the oldest Stark the one that coughed and cut the tension;

“And a sister; Lyanna,” his sister was always the center of parties, a brightness whenever she was; this wouldn’t be the exception. “She was older than me. Very wild, always getting in trouble…”

Rhaegal smiled at that, already liking that Stark girl. “That’s awesome. You have two brothers, like me! But I don’t have a sister…” his green eyes moved to his mother for a moment before focusing back on the center of the table, to Mr. Stark. “But I’m sure we’ll have one now that my mama and Jon are a couple, because a couple has babies, right?”

More than one person chocked on their drink or food. Benjen, Sansa, and mostly Daenerys and Jon – Rickon and Arya looked at each other and burst into laughter. Rhaegal looked around the table confused.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, Rhaegal,” Rickon replied to him, shaking his head and keeping in his laugh. He looked back at his uncle. “So, how was our aunt Lyanna, uncle Benjen?”

Benjen and Sansa barely spoke throughout the dinner after that, but once it was over, Jon talked to them and explained that their relationship was serious and that he had _real_ feelings for her as she did with him. Thankfully, his uncle and sister understood; their days knowing Daenerys must have helped a bit; otherwise he was sure their reaction would have been another one with her being a Targaryen… though he wouldn’t have cared all the same.

Even though Jon reassured Dany that everything was fine with his family knowing about them, he noticed her worry as they sat in front on the couch in front of the fireplace at the cabin, after verifying the boys were sound asleep. She was lost in thoughts, not paying attention at what he was saying.

“Dany…” the hand that was interviewed with hers squeezed it, gaining her attention as she looked at him. “Is something wrong?”

“No, just…” she suited herself and moved away from him a bit; he could recognize a bit of fear in her eyes. “There’s something you need to know… about what Rhaegal said on the table, earlier.”

“About having a sister?” He smiled at her, trying to reassure her. “Dany, it’s okay. They’re kids. I understand. I mean it’s not like I wouldn’t want to… have children with you but I know it’s too soon to think about that and –”

“You want to have children with me?” Daenerys interrupted him, eyes staring into his own as if begging him to deny it. Jon didn’t know what to answer, and his worry could only grow as she rose from the couch and walked closer to the fireplace, arms crossing over her chest and giving her back to him.

He’d screwed it up. Again. He shouldn’t have mentioned the children thing; they’d become an official couple just yesterday, for heaven’s sake. It was too soon to talk about that yet he brought it up; he must have scared her away.

“I know you want to,” Daenerys continued after the long silence that was cutting right through Jon. He heard her sighing deeply as she shook her head slightly. “That’s not the problem, Jon. But there’s something… you deserve to know before we keep… this.”

He waited in silence, too confused at the situation. Dany stepped back from the fireplace and came back to the couch, to sit on it but away from him; he wanted to reach out and bring her closer, but the mixed emotions reflecting on her face stopped him from doing so.

“I can’t have biological children.”

“What?”

Out of all the possibilities that were crossing his mind, that wasn’t one of them. He feared she didn’t want to have any more children after having not three, but four… one of them that didn’t survive. He feared that she didn’t feel like she was the right man for it.

But that? That wasn’t a possibility in his mind.

“What do you mean?”

He saw her swallowing hard and folding her hands on her lap, her purple eyes not daring to look up at him as she kept her gaze down. “After I had my son, Rhaego… the doctors told me it’d be very difficult for my womb to support any other child, that the damage inside was too much.”

Jon was too astonished to emit a sound; he opened his mouth but closed it as quickly, not knowing what to say – or feel. He’d always dreamed of marrying and having a child, perhaps named Robb after his brother if it were a boy, to love and protect and give them the life he’d never had; for his child to feel loved and recognized by him.

“I’m sorry.”

That snapped Jon out of his trance, making him see the teardrops on Daenerys’ hands. Jon sat closer to her and wrapped his arms around her, feeling her head against his chest, the heavy of her breath and the tears wetting his shirt.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he whispered against her hair, trying to hold her as tight as possible. “It’s okay, Dany. It doesn’t matter… there are much more important things to me than that,” his fingers found her chin to make her look up at him. His lips tugged into a small smile as his thumb wiped away the tear slowly rolling down her cheek. “You’re more important.”

Her eyebrows drew together in confusion as her shinning purple eyes stared into his dark ones. It took seconds for her lips to curve up, the softness replacing the sadness all over her face.

Daenerys leant in closer to him, to his face as her eyes moved down to his full mouth. “You truly are magical, Jon Snow.”

Her lips brushed his slightly before kissing them completely. He put his hand on the back of her neck and savored the taste and warm of her mouth, enjoying the teasing she so loved in catching his bottom lip to nip at it. The wound on his stomach burned as she shifted from the couch to his lap, his hands holding on to her hips as hers clung to his hair.

The kiss deepened but so did his need. He pulled away from her lips but continued on her neck, leaving soft kisses on her fair skin as he made his way down.

“Jon,” she moaned, moving back. “Not here.” Jon only gave her a smirk as response and got up, her legs around his waist and his firm hands holding her as his legs – a bit weak already – started taking them to the safe place. She let out a chuckle as she shook her head. “What are you doing? Your wound!”

“What wound?”

Dany only laughed more. “You’re unbelievable.”

He had rested well and had contained himself enough because of his wound. He needed it as he knew she did; no wound was going to stop them anymore.

Once Jon got them into Daenerys’ bedroom and closed the door, smashing her back against it, she arched an eyebrow to him, purple eyes sparkling with lust as she caught his lips between hers, showing him the fire she held inside. He couldn’t help his body immediately pressing against hers, and though his mind felt like a rising tornado, it cleared enough to remember why he’d crashed her against the door in the first place.

He let go of her with one hand – smirking into her kiss to realize how light she was – and locked the doorknob.

Jon held her firm as her legs tightened around his waist when he moved away and turned around to step closer to the bed; slowly leaning down to it and leaving her on it, not wanting to pull apart from her burning mouth, feeling as she could set him on fire with every movement of her lips.

But Daenerys pulled away from his face; he inhaled and exhaled as much as he could, but frowned in confusion to see her watching him so concentrated as he worried to see new water starting to gather in her eyes.

“Are you okay?”

Her fingers caressed slowly and gently his face. “I love you, Jon Snow,” she gave him the brightest smile he’d ever seen on her, her eyes wrinkling along with it.

Dany moved up, trying to find his mouth again, like she wasn’t waiting for an answer. But he stopped her, feeling her breath against his.

“I love _you_ , Daenerys Targaryen.”

He let her kiss him then, forgetting about everything and everyone, for he’d never felt something _so right_ with anyone. Families, businesses, nothing was going to be between them. He knew it in his heart as they became one that they were perfectly made for each other; they were meant to be, and nothing could change that.

**I**

On their second day back in Winterfell, Daenerys woke up on Jon Snow’s chest, wrapped around his muscle arms as a simple white covered their bodies. She smiled widely against his skin and held on to him; she didn’t know if he was always cold to the touch or if she was the one too warm, but either way, she enjoyed the coldness his skin radiated against hers.

Her fingers traced from the lines his abs marked to the stitches that she’d feared would open up, but they were intact. She smiled, remembering everyone saying that the cut was nothing for Jon.

Dany looked up as she heard him groaning. He blinked slowly and moved his head to her side before fully opening his eyes, a sleepy smile appearing on his lips soon.

“What a beautiful view to wake up to.”

Daenerys rolled her eyes. “Good morning to you too,” she couldn’t contain herself from reaching out to move a few black curls that fell onto his face. “But yes, you’re right. It’s a pretty view to wake up to.”

Jon raised his eyebrows. “Pretty? So you think I’m pretty?”

She held in her giggle. “Of course. You’re very pretty, Jon Snow.”

“Why thank you, Daenerys Targaryen.”

“You can stop saying my name like it’s some kind of royalty, you know.”

Jon titled his head confused. “Wait. You mean you’re not a Queen? The Dragon Queen? Have I been deceived?”

Dany arched an eyebrow in amusement. “I apologize. I forgot I was talking to the King in the North.”

“A King for a Queen…” a smirk raised on his lips. “It seems fitting…” Daenerys did giggle this time, which made his smirk melt into a warm smile as he watched her. It was his turn to move away a few locks of silver-blonde hair from her face to appreciate her natural beauty. “How do you feel?”

Dany leaned in to peck his lips. “What do you think?”

Jon’s smile grew a bit, the arm around her clinging to her body. “I think… I’m a very lucky man.”

Her heart melted with the fire that could only be turned on around Jon. “Not as lucky as I am,” she kissed him sweetly before her head leant against his chest.

She closed her eyes and enjoyed the quiet silence around them as she felt his arms around her. It’d been, truly, the best night of her life – she didn’t like to compare, but there was just no comparison to what she felt last night. She wasn’t in love with Drogon the first time she slept with him; she just liked him a lot, but it didn’t mean much. With Daario, it meant much less.

But with Jon… with Jon, it meant everything.

She loved him. And he loved her. There could be nothing better than this.

Dany had felt an inexplicable connection as he’d thrusted into her – he was the one, she knew it right. She even felt a fire inside him… one that matched hers perfectly.

If she had any doubts before, they were long gone now; they were for one another.

“Dany?”

“Mhm?”

“Can I ask you something? You don’t have to… answer if you don’t want to.”

Dany frowned and looked up at him. “Okay?”

 “You said the doctors told you you can’t have biological children after you had Rhaego… but I’ve heard you had him in the hospital and the kids, after him, in your home. How could they explain that?”

Daenerys stared at him with a blank expression. She sighed and reached out for his black shirt that was at their feet before putting it on and sitting next to him. Jon sat straight as well, frowning slightly to see her so conflicted about whatever she was going to say next.

“I know… I don’t have to ask this from you because I trust you, Jon, I do. But… please promise me you won’t tell anyone, no one, about what I’m going to tell you.”

“Is… everything alright?”

“Promise me, please.”

He found her hand and squeezed it to see her so worried, nodding. “I promise.”

“I had… Rhaego in the hospital, in Russia, that’s true. But… I didn’t have my three other babies in the house,” Jon titled his head confused. “They’re not my biological children, Jon. They were abandoned as newborns… I found them and I couldn’t leave them. Ever again.”

Silence filled the room.

Jon was perplexed, taking in her words. A sudden anger rose inside him; for some reason, it made him remember of his father never speaking to him about his mother, always denying him that part of him he’d never come to know as the only person that could have given something of her – a name, image, a reason – was long gone.

“And they don’t know?” He found his question stupid as soon as he finished it. Daenerys shook her head as an answer, but that was obvious. The kids had many moments to tell they had another mommy or daddy somewhere, yet they never did, and given how open they were, they would have. “Why?”

“Why?” The blonde repeated confused, but he didn’t understand where the confusion was coming from.

“Don’t you think they deserve to know?”

Daenerys looked offended; she opened her mouth to answer him angrily, he could see it coming… but she closed it and gazed away, biting her own lip to keep whatever she was thinking inside.

“Do you think they deserve to know they were abandoned at six years old?” she asked back in a low but dangerous voice Jon had the ability to already recognize. “They’re just children… and I won’t hurt them telling them that horrible true.”

“You can tell them they’re adopted,” Dany shook her head and got up from the bed to walk over to the window. “They’ll understand you, they’d still love you, but you can’t deny them that part of their identity. I know how that feels,” she turned around at that, the anger that was clear on her features fading away a bit at that. “I never knew my mother, my father never wanted to tell me anything about her – if she was alive and left me, if she was dead, or even her name. Do you know how horrible that is?”

Daenerys seemed conflicted about that; she swallowed and cleared her throat before speaking again. “I’m sorry about that, Jon. But it’s not the same case…” she shook her head. “Can you even imagine how they will react if they find out I’m not… their real mother? That someone gave them up? Can you imagine Viserion? Drogon? Rhaegal? I know exactly how they’d feel, and I’m not going to do that to them.”

Jon sighed and nodded, understanding it wasn’t his place to tell her what to do with her children. Still, he had to know something. “But you do realize you’ll have to them someday… right?”

That seemed to stir something inside Daenerys as she exploded, “I didn’t tell you so you could judge me!” She almost screamed before going to her wardrobe to take a pair of jeans. “I told you because I thought I could trust you and here you are judging me like I’m the most horrible parent to ever exist!”

“I never said that!” he raised his voice back, getting up to put his pants on. “But if you told me, don’t I have the right to tell you what I think?”

She sent a death-glare to his way before taking his shirt off and throwing it to him. “Not if you’re trying to push me to do something with my children that I don’t want to.”

Jon sighed. “I’m not trying to push you to do anything. I understand your point, but do you understand that –”

“No!” She cut him off harshly, finishing putting on a white blouse over her bra. “No, I don’t understand what your point is in telling them that they have another mother that abandoned them. I am their mother, Jon, and I know what’s best for them!”

“Daenerys –”

A soft knock on the door interrupted them. “Mama?” Viserion’s voice came from the other side. Daenerys gave Jon a look that made him react in getting dressed as she walked over to the door and unlock it before opening it, finding her son scratching his eyes and yawning in his Iron Man pajamas.

“You were yelling?”

“No of course not,” Dany said in a much calmer voice than what she used to Jon just seconds ago. She bent down to his height to kiss him on the cheek and fix a bit the mess of his blonde hair. “Good morning, sweetheart, do you want to have breakfast?” The boy nodded still with sleep in his eyes, but was suddenly very awake when he looked further into her room and saw Jon.

“Jon!” He ran to him and hugged his legs. “Are you going to have breakfast with us?!” He paused for a moment as he looked up at him. “Can we go to the store to pick up Vhagar’s friend today?”

“Sure, buddy.”

“Viserion, go wake your brothers please.”

“Okay! And I’ll go take my favorite books to show you Jon!”

The little boy ran out of the room quickly, unaware of the tension in the place. Daenerys watched him go as she sighed; she was about to after him hadn’t a hand taken her arm, holding her back.

“Dany.” Jon waited for her to turn around to face him, though the angry purple stare had yet to disappear. “I didn’t mean to upset you, I’m sorry. I just thought…”

“It’s very easy to say it if you’re not in my place. I am their mother,” she whispered, a few tears starting to build. “I’m the one that fed them, changed every diaper, endured every tantrum, and the one that always loved and protected them. They don’t need to know about the woman that left them in an alley… alone and cold, to die.”

Jon closed his eyes and sighed, delicately placing his hands on her shoulders. “I know, I know you are their mother,” he opened his eyes and tried to give her a small smile as his hand cupped her cheek. “I’d never say otherwise. And I’m sure neither will they when you decide to tell them. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was judging you. I’m sorry.”

Daenerys knew he didn’t mean any harm… he even opened up about what he felt about his mother, trying to make her understand though she didn’t see the cases very similar. Her children didn’t know about the adoption yet as Jon had always known someone was missing in his life.

She couldn’t help snapping at the thought of her innocent babies finding out that that there was another family out there for them, even if they abandoned them – she didn’t know if she could ever tell them the truth about the conditions in which she found them, that would hurt them too much. But she knew she should tell them about her not being their biological mother, someday. Even if that was her greatest fear.

“I know, I’m sorry,” she breathed out and leant in to rest her forehead on his chest, wanting to feel relaxed just like when she woke up in his arms. “I overreacted… it’s just that… the only thought of losing them…”

“You will never lose them,” he kissed her forehead before lifting her face up to kiss the top of her nose. “You’re the best mother I’ve ever known… no one can take them from you.”

“Thank you,” she smiled slightly and placed a kiss on his chin. “And I’m really sorry about your mother. Maybe there’s still a way…”

“No. That’s over for me,” he gave her a smile and a shake of head. “I’m fine with the family I’ve got.”

“Jon!” A shrill voice screamed; they looked to the end of the hallway to see Rhaegal running up to them in his Thor pajamas. “You slept here?!” Jon and Dany looked at each other as if they were in trouble, starting to try to make up an excuse. “Why didn’t you tell me? We could have made a camp! Can you stay tonight too so we make camps?! It’ll be awesome!”

Both adults sighed in relief, glad that the kid was always too innocent. Jon nodded with a smile. “That’s an excellent idea. But how about we make breakfast now? You wanna help me?”

Daenerys giggled at her child jumping in happiness as he’d never be in the morning. He wasn’t as bad as Drogon, but a grumpy child nonetheless. “Yes, yes!”

“Good morning to you too, Rhaegal,” Dany looked at him with an arched eyebrow and crossed arms.

“Good morning mama,” he gave her that charming smile that he knew could save him from anything, or almost. Dany smiled back and kissed him on the top of his head. “Let’s go make breakfast, Jon!”

Jon laughed. “Let’s go, little Thor.”

Rhaegal took his hand and pulled him away from his mother, not even giving him time to kiss her before leaving. Daenerys watched them with a smile, wondering if all their mornings could be like this…

“Mama!” Viserion yelled from the doorway of his room. “Drogon threw me a pillow because he doesn’t want to wake up!”

Daenerys sighed. Here they went again…

“Drogon!”

**III**

“So these are them, you say?”

“Yes, madam.”

“And which one you met?”

“This one.”

“Mhm. Well, you can go… we’ve already discussed what you need to do. Call me when you’ve got something.”

A door was soon opened and closed.

“I think this is too much,” a third voice said with a bit of worry. “We never said that –”

“Change of plans, my dear. Drogon. Rhaegal. Viserion. They’re cute children, don’t you think?” Cersei Lannister smirked before drinking from her cup of wine.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, I hope to keep up with these daily updates lol.
> 
> Thank you for all your comments in the previous chapter, even if a few ones were a bit harsh, I understand that my ideas can't fit everyone's desires, but I'll always take criticism if it's with respect and logicity :).
> 
> Hope you like this chapter and let me know what you think! :)

Jon put a hand over his mouth to stop the laughing from watching a scene repeating; Daenerys going after Drogon and Rhaegal in the electronic cars that they’d found once again in the toy shop.

“Jon?” Viserion’s soft voice whispered next to him.

He looked down to find a curious look on the boy’s face. “Yes?”

“Your family’s dogs… how are they called?”

He frowned, a bit confused at the question. “Well, you know Ghost, Shaggydog and Nymeria,” the child nodded at that, concentrated on his words. “Then there was Grey Wind, Robb’s… dog. Lady, Sansa’s dog, and Summer, Bran’s dog.”

“Robb… he was your best friend, right?”

Jon smiled as he nodded. “Yeah. Why are you asking?”

Viserion shrugged and looked back at his brothers being stopped by their mother with a stern look. He giggled. “My brothers are my best friends too, both of them. They’re silly sometimes and they fight all the time, but they’re my best friends,” he paused for a moment before looking up at him in worry. “Is it bad I have two best friends?”

“Of course not, buddy,” he put a hand on his head and messed with his hair, knowing Daenerys would fix it once she saw it. “You can have as many best friends as you like, if that’s what you feel.”

“Here it is,” they both turned around to find Miss Klaine walking up to them, a bag between her old hands. She stood in front of them and handed it to the kid, giving him a warm smile. “It was a pleasure to make it, little one.”

“Thanks, Miss Klaine!” Viserion was sure to remember his manners before taking the bag. Daenerys walked to them with Rhaegal and Drogon holding each of her hands so they wouldn’t be getting away from her. “Look, mama, Vhagar’s new friend is here!”

“I’m so glad, sweetheart,” even though her son didn’t need any other teddy to hold on to as he slept, she knew he’d been excited all day to get his Vhagar’s friend. “Go on, show it.”

Jon watched as the blonde boy took a teddy in form of a white and grey wolf. His brothers gasped at it as Viserion’s mouth dropped open as it formed a huge smile. “I love it, Miss Klaine, thank you!”

“A wolf?” Drogon was the first to ask, eyebrow arched in confusion. “Why not a dragon?”

“Vhagar is a dragon,” he calmly explained to his brother as he hugged the stuffed wolf to his chest. “I didn’t want her to feel like I chose another dragon, so I’m going to give her a wolf as a friend.”

Drogon shrugged in agreement as Rhaegal eyed the wolf. “What about his name?”

“Grey Wind.”

Daenerys looked up at Jon quickly, knowing that was the name of his brother’s wolf. It was clear the man was taken back by her child’s words as she hoped they wouldn’t upset him.

“You’re not mad, right, Jon?” Viserion asked worriedly. “I want Vhagar and Grey Wind to be best friends like you and your brother were, that’s why I named him that. Is it wrong?”

“No…” Jon was fast to answer and give him a smile to see him hesitating. He caressed his head. “Thank you Viserion, that’s a great honor to Robb and Grey Wind.”

The other two kids took their brother by his hands and drugged him to some place in the store that they wanted to show him. Daenerys kept an eye on them, verifying that they weren’t causing any trouble before moving towards Jon and taking his hand.

“I remember the last time we were here you told me Viserion was the sweetest kid you’ve ever met,” Jon interviewed their hands and placed a kiss on her knuckles. “He really is. And I can bet he takes after you on that.”

Daenerys shook her head. “He’s nothing like me. He’s so much better.”

“He’s everything like you, they all are. Shows what a great mother you are.”

Dany smiled and leant in to kiss him but stopped short to remember they were in a public place, even if there wasn’t much people around. Jon was slightly confused for a moment before understanding crossed his features, but a smirk quickly tugged in his lips as she took her by the waist and pulled her into him before bumping his mouth against hers.

She couldn’t help losing herself into his kiss as she always did before reality hit her and she had to put her hands on his chest to break apart, looking everywhere quickly to see no one was watching them. “Jon. What are you doing?”

“What’s the matter? It’d be a problem for your case against Cersei?”

Dany frowned at that. “No. I don’t think so, but…”

“But?”

“But I don’t know, are we ready for the whole country to be talking about us?”

Jon chuckled and only held her tighter. “In case you didn’t notice, _babe_ , you’re Daenerys Targaryen. The whole country has been talking about you for months.”

She was surprised to find herself smiling at the sweet nickname that sounded so right in his voice… like he’d said if a hundred times already. She had thought she hated these kinds of nicknames since she always snapped at Daario for calling her babe or honey, but she realized then it wasn’t the nicknames, it was the person. It wasn’t the right person back then.

“You’re right,” her tensed shoulders relaxed as she nodded and gave him a daring look. “And don’t be so humble. We both know they’d been talking about you too, King in the North.”

Jon was close enough to kiss her again, but he stopped and narrowed his eyes to hear her last words. “You _love_ to say that, don’t you?”

Dany smiled innocently and whispered a brief ‘maybe’ before catching his lips, not caring about the people that could be watching.

**I**

On the third day of the week, Daenerys watched her children, Rickon, Jon and Arya playing on the ground of the living room in the Stark mansion, all six of them to figure out one hard puzzle. Viserion, Jon and Arya – claiming that a game wasn’t going to defeat her – were the most concentrated on it, as she’d caught Drogon, Rickon and Rhaegal messing up the pieces just for the fun of it without them noticing.

It was the third time Arya had to make a part of the puzzle all over again; she knew as her family was known for the fire, that the Starks were known for ice, but these kids were playing with fire trying to trick the Stark girl.

Meanwhile, she’d decided to have a cup of tea on the big table of the living room, across Bran Stark that had his nose into a book she couldn’t figure out the title.

“No, no, no, Arya, it doesn’t go there, it goes here…” Jon tried to move a piece.

“It goes there, Jon, do your part, leave mine alone!”

“But we’re never going to finish if you don’t do it right!”

“Shut up.”

Daenerys chuckled as she drank a sip of her tea; the Stark siblings were worse than her six years old.

“I think I have a clue as to why I always saw nothing from Jon,” Bran’s voice startled her a little bit since he barely spoke. She couldn’t remember a time in which he’d talked to her directly. “Your fates have been sealed since you were both born. I can’t see anything of you, so I can’t see anything of him because you’ve always been connected. I’m afraid I have yet to figure out the reason behind my incapacity to see your past or future. It rarely happens.”

“Oh,” was all Dany could say. Jon had made a comment to her about Bran being special but she didn’t know this… much. It was rare the times for her in which she didn’t know what to say, at all. But she had to say something or else he’d think badly of her. “And… this is something you easily do, you say? Seeing people’s past and future?”

Bran merely nodded. “I’m the Three-Eyed Raven. I can see beyond time. Rare are the persons I can’t go through. You’re one of them. I wonder if it’s for your Targaryen blood – your family has always been special, I believe.”

The Three-Eyed Raven. Daenerys had read Westeros’ history enough to know that was a myth, someone to be believed that had lived thousands of years ago, when magic was a common thing in the country. But who was she to judge? Her skin was resistant to fire, so were her children’s and they weren’t even Targaryen by blood – there were incoherent things in the world that existed.

“You don’t believe me.”

“No, yes, I do,” she came back from her thoughts quickly. “It’s just that… for what I knew, the Three-Eyed Raven was someone that lived thousands of years ago.”

“Dragons lived thousands of years ago, didn’t they? Yet here you are, immune to the fire.”

Dany’s lips turned up into a small smile at the boy’s cleverness. “Fair enough…” she glanced over to the book he put down and saw the letters were in Latin. “You like Latin?”

He merely shrugged. “I already know the language, but it entertains me more than reading the history of a country I know by heart now…” his eyes moved past her, towards the group sitting on the ground a few meters from them. “Your friends. Where are they?”

“Shopping,” she gave the day free to Missy, Doreah and Irri to do whatever they pleased. The last two were eager to make a tour over the shops in Winterfell, meanwhile Missandei wanted to rest in her apartment.

He didn’t move his gaze away from the group, or her children to be exact. “Do you trust them?”

“Yes… I do,” Daenerys answered starting to feel uncomfortable, not knowing where this question was coming from. “Why?”

“I think your children are happier in this house. They should stay here more often than with them.”

Daenerys was speechless; she didn’t know why he changed the topic from her friends to her children in a second, what that had anything to do with them… and she certainly didn’t know what to think of this advice coming from a teenager that didn’t truly interact with her children and she couldn’t have imagined he cared for them enough to want them in his house more often. But she felt his words carried something more… like a warning.

But that couldn’t be possible.

“I appreciate your words,” she gave a nod to him and watched as he focused back on the book in front of him.

It’d be later, in the night, after Jon had exhausted the kids out by playing with them with the camp they’d made, and they had time alone in front of the fireplace with a bottle of wine opened, and Ghost resting in the corner of the living room, that she thought about telling Jon about her conversation with his brother.

He listened carefully and silently to every one of her words, and when she was finished, he remained quiet for long seconds before giving his thoughts.

“And he didn’t tell you why he said that,” Dany shook her head, but Jon knew the answer beforehand; Bran never gave much explanations about what was going on inside his mind. “Well, I don’t know… maybe that’s his way of showing you he likes the kids. I’m sorry if it creeped you out.”

“No, it’s okay, I just found it…”

“Weird. I know,” he let out a deep sigh with a slight shake of head. “I want him to see a specialist in psychiatry or psychology but Sansa, Arya, even my uncle Benjen are too afraid that they’d want to hospitalize him if he reveals to the doctor he’s the Three-Eyed Raven and all that.”

“I’m not sure he has to be hospitalized because of that… maybe the psychiatrist gets him on a few pills, but that doesn’t mean he has to be taken away. Not if he’s not dangerous to himself or other people.”

“I know, but you know my sisters, they’re hard to convince. But I’m glad Bran talked to you… he barely talks to us, I think it’s a good thing he actually spoke to you,” Jon knew that his brother didn’t speak to her just because – ever since they’d been reunited, Bran didn’t speak to anyone just to make a conversation out of it. It had to mean something to him. It made him happy his brother had acknowledged Daenerys’ presence enough to have a small chat with her.

Rickon adored her, Arya trusted her, and Bran spoke to her, which was as big to him as his youngest brother liking Dany since the first day, because years could have went by without Bran making contact with Daenerys if he didn’t feel she was someone important to the family. Jon knew he’d changed, but he believed that inside the teenager that wanted to demonstrate nothing could go through him, was still the adventurous and caring Bran he knew. He refused to believe otherwise.

“So. Should I consider as a sign that all my siblings like you?”

Daenerys arched an eyebrow. “You think Bran likes me?”

“I am sure he would have showed his dislike sooner if you weren’t of his interest, but he even spoke to you and in a good way. It says something.”

She smiled but titled her head. “What about Sansa? I think she tolerates me… for now.”

“She’ll come around. I think once Sansa gets to truly meet you, you can even be good friends. You have things in common.”

“Well…” she came closer to him and sat between his legs, her back pressing against his chest as his strong arms hugged her against him. “Then there’s only one left in the Stark family I’m concerned in getting the approval from… even you though you said he likes me already.” Jon moved his head to have a better look of her face, with curious eyes. “Ghost.”

The wolf’s ears perked up at the sound of his name, his head moving to one side to the couple that shared a laugh at how confused he looked. The animal stood and walked over to them to sniff at Daenerys, his tail wiggling slightly as she reached out to pet him on the head.

“He clearly likes you,” Jon nodded proud at Ghost’s happiness over Daenerys petting him. “I’m not sure if at first he liked you because you were Rhaegal’s mother or because he sensed I liked you, but I don’t mind.”

Daenerys smiled at how fluffy Ghost’s fur felt. She realized then Rhaegal’s love in petting the wolf. “How did you get away with keeping wolves?”

“No one dared to contradict my father. But we had rules. We had to keep them inside the house until they knew how to behave in front of others. My father was criticized for it because they thought them to be dangerous, which they are, but they’re civilized enough not to harm people… if you don’t tell them to. Or if you’re not threating someone they care for.”

Dany looked thoughtful for a moment as she stared at Ghost. “And that night you saved Rhaegal from Euron Greyjoy… did you tell him to attack a man?”

“No, he did it on his own. Somehow, he knew something was wrong in the car; I let him out and had to chase after him. I didn’t realize it was about Rhaegal until Ghost jumped in to bite the man’s hand that Rhaegal fell back.”

Daenerys stroked under Ghost’s snout, loving the contradiction in this dangerous and huge animal looking like a pup when he was petted. She’d always wonder about the strange connection Rhaegal and Ghost built since the first day; she was sure wolves wouldn’t defend anyone that wasn’t from their pack, yet he did it with her son… which was something she never got to thank him for, even if he was an animal. But he was an animal smart enough to save her child’s life.

“Thank you for saving Rhaegal that night, Ghost,” the white wolf blinked as she was amazed by the bright red of his eyes. “And thank you for putting up with my children pulling from your fur and ears.”

“It’s his pleasure,” Jon answered for his wolf, knowing it to be true or else there would be at least a growl from him to feel his ears being stretched or how pressed he’d feel when Rhaegal or Viserion hugged him too tight. Ghost behaved like an angel around the children, and for that, he was grateful.

But Ghost wanted to give an answer of his own as he stepped closer to Daenerys and licked her face like he’d been a friendly dog all along. Jon pet him on the head as he moved away to crouch at their feet.

“You have any doubts now?”

Daenerys laughed and cuddled against him.

**II**

Jon stared at himself being on the front cover of a magazine, kissing Daenerys at the toy shop that they’d been two days ago. He hadn’t truly believed that the magazines would pick up on them but he should have taken them seriously; still, it was matter of time for them to find out and do these kinds of things. He searched inside the magazine under his uncle’s stern dark eyes, looking for any picture that could involve Daenerys’ children, but they weren’t anywhere to be seen.

“What were you thinking, Jon?”

Jon didn’t understand his uncle’s need to talk to him alone, claiming it to be urgent, before he went to the park with Daenerys, her children and his youngest brother. The three six years old were pretty excited to meet Winterfell’s park so he told Dany to go ahead and for Rickon to show her the way that he knew so well and that he’d catch up with them later.

“What was I thinking?” He repeated, leaving the closed magazine in the table in front of him, looking up at the older man sitting across the desk. “You knew about Daenerys and I –”

“Yes, I knew, but I remember I told you to be discreet.”

“Why should we? We’re grown adults, uncle Benjen; we know what we’re doing –”

“I don’t know if Daenerys knows what she’s doing, but I can certainly tell you do not,” Jon was a bit surprised since it was the first time he was seeing his uncle angry at him, talking at him with a heavy tone of voice. “Do you realize what this mean for Winterfell?” Jon was disconcerted at what the town had anything to do with pictures of him and Daenerys kissing in a magazine. “Daenerys is Cersei’s central enemy at the moment, Jon, and you’ve been seen kissing her, showing everyone you’re a couple! Now she has the perfect excuse to openly show we are her enemies, too.”

Jon cleared his throat and sat up straight, a frown drawing between his dark eyebrows as he put a hand on his beard. “But we’ve been her enemies since we proclaimed Winterfell as independent, uncle Benjen, I don’t see the harm in –”

“Jon,” his uncle sighed deeply, clasping his hands together on the table, clearly trying to keep calm. “I’ve been told that the main Company in Scotland that was willing to buy us weapons doesn’t want to deal with us anymore… because they don’t want to have Cersei’s wrath upon them. With this,” he held up the magazine but Jon refused to look at it, starting to understand the big mess that had made. “She has proof we’re allies with Daenerys Targaryen. She didn’t do this sooner because she didn’t have the proof, what proof could she have of you both being allies because you saved her son from her? But she has this now and she’s using it. She made the calls that she needed to stop our businesses.”

Jon swallowed hard and fell back on the chair, running a hand through his hair, trying to find the best way to apologize, to look for a way to fix this… but nothing was coming up to his mind. Daenerys told him to be discreet, but he’d been too foolish in love to realize the consequences of their actions.

“I know you care about her, Jon, I do. I know you have strong feelings for her, but I need you to think clearly… you’re named King in the North here; you’re not an ordinary person. These people trust in you; I might be Mayor but it’s you they look up to.”

Jon looked up at him, upset he was bringing up the King-in-the-North point, when he knew damn well who he was, being reminded of it every day. He hadn’t had a break in years, and when he was starting to take it with Daenerys, trying to enjoy the happiness she’d brought to his life along with her children…

“I am not a King,” he snapped back. “I didn’t ask for this. I am sorry this happened, uncle Benjen, I really am. I’ll try to find a way to fix it but –”

“I’m already moving my contacts to get a new Company before this is known here, but that’s not the point. You’re not an official King but you are in Winterfell, Jon. Robb has been one before you, you have to be more –”

“I am not Robb, uncle!”

“But you are a Stark!” His uncle screamed, rising from his chair with his fists glued to the desk between them. Jon glared at him, saying everything with his eyes. “You don’t have our name but there’s no one more Stark than you in this family… that’s why our people named you King, and you can’t let them down by acting this foolish.”

Jon clenched his jaw and moved his eyes down, feeling like a child all over again. His throat felt dry as he kept his glare on his fists resting on the edge of the desk; he knew he’d screwed it up but he wasn’t a kid to be screamed at. He was twenty four years old, for heaven’s sake.

“I think you and Daenerys need to take a break from each other. Let her return to Dragonstone to wait for the trial with Cersei…”

Jon shook his head with a smirk rising on his lips. Unbelievable. “You’re telling me to act like the King of this town yet you want to tell me what to do with my life when I am a man…” his dark grey eyes looked up at him this time. “I’m not a kid anymore, uncle Benjen. I know what I’m doing…” Benjen opened his mouth to talk back, but Jon calmly got up from his seat, without moving away his gaze from his. “I recognize I’ve made a mistake, I apologize for it; if I have to face our people because of it, I will, and I will try my best to fix this… but in my own way. I am not letting anyone interfere in my life or in my relationship with Daenerys. I hope that’s clear.”

Jon turned around and walked towards the door. He wasn’t going to have anyone telling him what to do in his relationship with Daenerys; that was the last straw. They were grown adults; he was going to figure out a way to get back that Company that had been scared away by Cersei or get a new one even better.

“Jon. There’s something else.” He had opened the door by now, but stood in the doorway and turned to look at his uncle, waiting for whatever he needed to tell him. “Euron Greyjoy is in town.”

**III**

It was a lovely day outside; it wasn’t that cold since the sun was shining above them, giving a warm feeling to every spot it got. Daenerys was delighted with the park; it had a small lake in the center and too much green around, with enough benches to enjoy the view.

She had her attention on her phone but was looking up from time to time to check on the children; Drogon, Rickon and Rhaegal were playing at the edge of the lake with small paper boats the young Stark had made for all of them. Viserion was on his own playing with a paper plane just a few meters from his brothers, throwing it as far as it could get, only to run after it and repeat the action.

Shaggydog was lying down behind his human and his friends; Jon told her it was rare the times he’d be away from Rickon. Ghost, by Rhaegal’s requested, accompanied them as well and kept resting at her feet, uninterested in whatever was happening around them, probably waiting for Jon as she did.

Dany looked back at her phone to keep scrolling the photos that she’d found in there. Viserion loved to take her phone and take as many pics as he could without her noticing. She found he’d taken many selfies this morning when she was taking a shower and left them under Jon’s care for a moment; there were many selfies of him making silly faces, then it seemed Rhaegal wanted to appear too and in the end Drogon joined them as well, but as she reached what she knew were the last photos, her heart melted at the last one.

It was clear Jon was the one taking the selfie this time, with Viserion on his lap, Rhaegal appearing at his shoulder and Drogon sitting by his side.

“Mama!” Dany looked up to find an upset Drogon running up to her. When he stopped in front of her, she noticed the broken paper boat on his little hand. “Rhaegal is being stupid again!”

“Drogon,” her voice became stern. “What did I tell you about insulting your brother?”

“But he is!” the child protested. “He says I can’t play with them anymore because it’s a game for two, but that’s not true!”

 Daenerys sighed; she was going to have to get the two of them and make them apologize to each other… they could play together if Viserion and Rickon were involved but sometimes one of them would remember they were still angry with the other and break the game.

“And now I can’t play because I broke my boat,” he showed her the pieces of paper, a pout forming on his lips as his chin trembled with distress. “I didn’t mean to, but I was angry and you said violence is bad so I didn’t hit Rhaegal but I broke my boat!”

Daenerys smiled slightly to hear he obeyed in not hitting his brother, but had yet to control his impulses or this would be the first of many toys to get broken. She looked around, had Jorah been here, he could have made another paper boat since she didn’t know how to do it, but it was just her and the kids, for Jon claimed it wasn’t necessary for her guards to go with them… two wolves were enough of security. She didn’t think it was a bad idea; Winterfell was a calm place after all.

But she remembered she had a small notebook inside her purse and that Rickon had made these paper boats in the first place.

“I can ask Rickon to make you another one,” she calmly replied to him.

“No,” he frowned and shook his head. “He prefers Rhaegal. I don’t want to play with him anymore.”

Daenerys sighed, not wanting the Stark boy being dragged into her children’s fight. She was about to tell him that wasn’t true, hadn’t Viserion jumped next to him; his pale cheeks reddened and messy blonde-cream hair showing the running he’d been doing for the past minutes.

“You can play with me!” He offered with excitement. “I throw my plane, you catch it and then you throw it at me again!”

Drogon eyed him and the paper plane on his hand suspiciously before nodding. “Okay,” his brother ran off quickly to continue with his game, but he looked back at her before going after him. “But Rhaegal was bad.”

Daenerys was going to speak to him nonetheless, but she had to hold back a smile to see his determination for her to know his brother was on the wrong side this time. “Yes, I’ll talk to him about it.”

She watched him run after Viserion to start playing with his plane before her eyes moved down to her phone again; the picture still on her screen. She loved it so much she knew she _had_ to make it her new wallpaper. As she finished it, she kept admiring the picture.

Her children and Jon – they were too good for her, too perfect. She couldn’t feel happier at the moment to have them in her life.

Ghost’s head moving up so fast startled a bit, but she had no time to react to it to see Jon’s name appearing on her phone’s screen as a call. She was about to answer it, hadn’t the white wolf at her feet gotten up with a loud growl before running off.

“Hey, that’s my brother’s plane, give it back!” she heard Drogon yelling in the distance.

Daenerys looked up to see Drogon and Viserion’s backs; there was a man in front of them that she couldn’t figure out who he was… but it couldn’t be someone good given the speed that Ghost used to get to the kids and stand by their side, making the man take a step back.

She got up and walked over to them quickly as horror and rage filled her to recognize the man in front of her boys. Once Dany was close enough to them, the man looked up at her as he wet his lips.

“Daenerys Targaryen,” she stood behind Drogon and Viserion and calmly put protective arms around them to bring them closer to her, not wanting to show the desperation she felt inside to have this… man –if he could be called a man, at all– so close to her children. “We meet at last.” Euron Greyjoy finished saying, a disgusting smirk settling in on his face.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone that still takes their time to read and enjoy this story, I truly appreciate that :). And I'm sorry if the story doesn't please everyone's expectations but I try to make most readers happy by adjusting my ideas to some of yours but I'm afraid that can't be always in some cases.
> 
> Next words aren’t aimed to everyone that told me they didn't agree with the idea that dany can’t have children, but ONLY to the ones that were SO into the idea that that part of the story automatically makes it unworthy of reading; I want to make clear that I understand that the 'daenerys-can't-have-biological-children' can be a boring plot to some people, I respect that, but IMO if you're too obsessed with the idea that that is so so wrong, it can make it look like you're anti-adoption and I won't stand for that because there's nothing wrong with having children that are not related by blood. 
> 
> Here's the thing; in the story, Daenerys says she can't have biological children, but she explicitly says the doctors told her it'd be very difficult to carry another child, not that was impossible, so I can take either way, it's up to me, but whatever thing I choose I just want y'all to know that I think it is perfectly fine to raise and love children that aren’t biologically yours; parents are not less parents for that and their kids are not less theirs for that. Parents are the ones that raise and love these kids. That is all, thanks.
> 
> So. I hope you like this new chapter. Comments are always welcome!

“Give the plane back!”

Euron smirked, moving the small paper plane from hand to hand. “You’re Drogon, right? Black hair, tallest one –”

Daenerys’ blood boiled to hear him addressing one of her children. She couldn’t help her grip tightening on the little boys’ shoulders. “Don’t you dare to speak a word to my children,” she hissed to him and looked down to them. “Go with Rickon, boys,” she didn’t have to glance over her shoulder to know Shaggydog was on his feet and alert to what was happening a few meters from them, but not wanting to move from his owner’s side.

“But my plane –”

“Go.”

Both boys snorted in frustration and glared up at the man in front of them before walking away, dragging their feet to show their annoyance. Rhaegal and Rickon were too concentrated on their boats in the lake to notice what was happening around them, but the children’s shadows covering them made them look up.

Rickon frowned to see Shaggydog standing, ears and tail up, as if he was ready to attack. He followed his wolf’s gaze to see Daenerys and Ghost in front of a man he didn’t know. “What’s going on there?”

“We were playing,” Drogon started explaining, frown on place and little arms folding over his chest. “I threw the plane to Viserion but that man took it instead and didn’t want to give it back!”

That caught Rhaegal’s attention. He stretched his head to have a better of the man; his green eyes grew big to see who it was. “That’s Euron Greyjoy, the bad man! The one Jon saved me from!”

Something seemed to flick in Drogon’s eyes at the realization. “The bad man? We have to help mama!”

“No,” Rickon was quick to intervene, knowing there was no safest place right now than with his black wolf. “We stay here, with Shaggydog. Your mother is with Ghost, he won’t let him hurt her.”

The young Stark looked behind him, hoping to see Jon arriving soon.

Ghost growled louder and advanced a step when Euron Greyjoy tried to get closer to Daenerys, which made the man step back, the smirk never disappearing from his face but a bit of fear crossing his blue eyes… meanwhile she didn’t even flinch at the wolf’s sound.

“You’ll be wise to stay the hell away from my children, Greyjoy.”

“It’s a public place, isn’t it, milady? I just happened to catch your boy’s plane. Wonderful boys you have there, I must say.”

Daenerys gave him a false smirk. “The next time you speak about my children again, will be the last time you ever hear your own voice.”

Euron arched an eyebrow, hand on chin as he scanned her body with his eyes from her head to her toe. He wet his lips and shook his head. “You truly are the Dragon Queen they say you are, aren’t you? Full of fire. I like it.”

“And you truly are the disgusting man I’ve heard of,” she kept a calm and low voice yet the venom was clear on her words for the man that was so close to kidnapping one of her children weeks ago. “You have no business here. Turn around and leave.”

“Actually, yes, I have. I’m here to discuss some matters with Mayor Stark on Cersei Lannister’s behalf… who I can tell you, is not happy about you delaying the trial to extend your vacations at Winterfell.”

“The only thing I did was extend her days at the Company, so she should be thanking me,” Daenerys wanted to slap the amusement off of this monster’s face but she had to contain herself by closing her hands in fists. “Go on. Run back to her lap, do your job as her dog.”

What a gratification she got when the smirk faded away from Euron’s face, the amusement being taken over by anger as he clenched his jaw. “Dog? The only dog here is the bastard you claim as boyfriend. Good strategy, Daenerys Targaryen. You got the Starks on your side… by the small price of fucking their leader,” the satisfaction she felt was long now as she could feel the fire rising in her veins to hear him speak of Jon in such way. “Enjoy while you can. How long will it be till they realize you’ve been playing them this whole time? I cannot wait to sit back and watch a Targaryen-Stark war starting all over again.”

Daenerys heard steps behind her. “You’ll be waiting a long time,” Jon was soon standing between her and the man in front of them. She felt the need to take his arm to hold him back, not wanting him to get into a physical fight. “Back off, Greyjoy. You have no rights here.”

“Hello to you, too, _bastard_ ,” he gave him a nod and a sinister smile. “Forgive me, but last I checked, this is a free country, isn’t it? Don’t I have the right to enjoy a bit of green and fresh air?” Jon narrowed his eyes at him, catching the irony of his words. Free country – too free for people like him that the only life they should know was behind the bars. “What’s the matter, Snow? You fuck a dragon whore and suddenly you feel in power?”

Daenerys felt the way the muscles of his arm tensing under her touch, she eyed how his hand closed into a fist as he took a step closer to Euron, but her children and his brother were watching them and the park was a public place. He couldn’t do anything to him. “Jon. Don’t.”

He kept being tense but after a moment, he cooled down if only a bit but got closer to Euron, his face standing inches away from his. “Listen to me, and you listen carefully, because I am going to say it only one time. I don’t want you near Daenerys and her children ever again. This is my town; you’re not going to fuck around here. Is that clear? Or should you need a reminder of what happened to one of your men when he tried to lay a finger on a Targaryen?”

Dany loved the way Euron hesitated for a moment before keeping the smug mask on, narrowing his eyes at Jon. “Are you threatening me, Jon Snow?”

“I don’t threaten. I warn.” He glanced down for a moment and snatched the paper plane from the other man’s hand before staring into his eyes again. “Do your negotiations with the Mayor and leave. Wolves don’t do well with krakens.”

Jon took Daenerys’ hand and leaded her away, hearing Ghost still growling at the man behind them as they walked towards the children attentively watching them. He handed out the paper plane to Viserion, remembering his brother had made it for him.

“Here you go, bud.”

Viserion smiled as he took back his plane, but Rhaegal looked up at him in confusion. “What’s the bad man doing here, Jon? Does he want to take me again?”

“No one is taking anyone,” Daenerys answered him instead. “He’s just here to talk with Jon’s uncle about some things but he’ll leave soon. Don’t worry.”

“He scared me,” the little blonde boy confessed with a pout and a small frown. “He has an evil face.”

“He didn’t scare me!” Drogon held up his hand. “I was going to punch him if he didn’t give Viserion’s plane back!”

Jon smiled as Ghost came to stand by his side. He put a hand on his head and petted him, silently thanking him for being at Daenerys’ side the whole time. The two wolves stayed with the children when they resumed with their playing as they walked back to the bench Daenerys had been previously sitting on, looking around to see Euron was long gone now.

Once they were sitting again, Jon made sure to not let go of her hands. He’d known that if Euron Greyjoy used the last brain cell he had, he wouldn’t do anything against Daenerys or the kids in a public place, but he couldn’t count on the man’s cleverness and instead relied on his sickness of loving to scare and threaten people. He’d drove as fast as possible to the park, worry filling him with each second passing, cursing himself for telling Daenerys that it should be fine – because it should have – in going to the park without security around them, but the two wolves with them hold up his concern.

He’d tried to be as calm as possible when he got out of the car, but he saw red at the sight of Euron Greyjoy so close to Daenerys.

“Are you okay? What did he do?”

She nodded her head, a few silver-blonde locks falling onto her face. “I’m fine. He took Viserion’s plane when he was playing with Drogon and was talking to them. He’s so… disgusting. I’ve heard it from Theon and Yara, but seeing and hearing him? I wanted to slap the shit out of him.”

Jon arched an eyebrow and pursed his lips to stop himself from smiling to hear her cursing for first time with that cute-angry pout she formed on her lips. But he couldn’t blame her; Euron Greyjoy was the kind of person that deserved all the insults there was.

“What negotiations does he have to make with your uncle?”

Jon sighed; his uncle told him in brief words that he was in town to have a meeting with him on Cersei’s behalf to negotiate something, but he couldn’t stay and hear more for he needed to get to Daenerys. “I don’t know yet. I think now that the main Company that was willing to trade with us is gone she’ll take advantage in that to have us under her control again. But I’m sure my uncle won’t give in.”

“The main Company to trade with you? The one in Scotland?” Jon had mentioned it to her once a few days ago; an important meeting was to be made in the upcoming days. “What happened?”

She didn’t miss the way he cleared his throat and stretched the back of his head. “We… were photographed in Miss Klaine’s store and made it to a magazine’s cover. Cersei used that to show the people in Scotland that we’re together, I don’t know what lies she could have told them; that my family is on your side with the trial, that we’re her enemies as much as you are, I don’t know, but they don’t want to deal with us anymore.”

Daenerys looked horrified. “Why would she do that?!” As soon as the question left her lips she knew the answer; that woman’s thirsty for power had no end.

“Why? You don’t think she has reasons to want us destroyed enough to come back begging for her help?”

“Jon, I told you –”

“I know, I know,” he cut her off before she could continue, bringing a hand to his forehead to massage the sides of his head. He had enough with his uncle’s lecture to listen to another one, and he had yet to meet Sansa. “I screwed it up. My uncle made sure that I noticed that.”

Daenerys cocked her head; Benjen Stark seemed to be a nice man, she couldn’t imagine him being that mad… but then again, it was an important deal they’d just lost. “What did he say?”

“That I have to be discreet because I’m the King in the North and my people look up at me,” he rolled his eyes with a sigh. “And I know that. It won’t happen again. It’s just that I can never…” his words trailed off as he shook his head.

“Take a break?” She smiled in understanding when he looked back at her. “Yeah. I felt the same before coming to here. Maybe…” she reached out for his hand as her smile grew. “When you fix the problems here and I have everything settled in the Company, we can take a break, together? Go somewhere, away from everyone?”

Jon couldn’t help his lips tugging in a small smile to see her purple eyes shining in excitement, forgetting for a moment the troubles on his shoulders. “I’d like that, very much.”

Daenerys smiled and leaned into him a bit, remembering they had to keep a distance after what happened with that magazine, wait for the furor to fade away, even if there was no use in hiding anymore, for everyone knew by now.

“I have a few contacts that could –”

Jon’s face became stern. “No. I’ll fix this on my own.”

“Jon, this is my fault too, I can help with –”

“Daenerys, no,” they hadn’t been years or month together but she already knew that he calling her by her full name wasn’t good news. “This is Winterfell. _I_ have to take care of this…” his eyes softened for a moment. “But thank you.”

Daenerys offered him a small smile, not wanting to stay with crossed arms over something that was partly her fault… but knowing she had to respect Jon’s decision about it.

**I**

Rhaegal groaned as his mama covered his head with a towel and started shaking his head from side to side. He hated baths; he was always trying to find his way out of it but nothing ever worked… if he was lucky enough, he’d win the fight with Drogon over the last one to bathe – today he wasn’t lucky because his mama said it was mean of him to tell his brother that he couldn’t play with him and Rickon earlier in the park when that didn’t have to be the case. He didn’t see the problem in wanting to play with only Rickon since Drogon wasn’t truly getting the game’s rules. He hated that he ran to their mama to accuse him; sometimes he made fun of Viserion for being a baby but _he_ was the real baby.

“Look at that hair,” his mama chuckled when she took off the towel from his head and started taking the hair from his face. “It needs a cut, doesn’t it?” she reached for his favorite pajamas; the white one with green dragons all over them.

“I don’t want to cut it. I want it long like Jon’s hair.”

His mama seemed surprised by his words as she stared at him for a moment before helping him get through his clothes. “Are you sure about that? You never liked your hair long.”

“I do now.”

She chuckled before nodding. “Alright then. No haircut.”

“Mama, where’s Jon?”

“I told you, he’s working with his uncle about something very important.”

Rhaegal sighed loudly, earning a small smile from his mother as she opened his pajama pants for him to get on them. He’d asked her earlier when they were having dinner why Jon wasn’t having dinner with them and she said he had to work with his uncle. He hated grown ups’ jobs; they were boring and didn’t let them be free to play.

“But what’s so important?”

“The Starks are important in this town, sweetling. They have to take care of important things about the town,” his mother told him with that calm voice she’d always use when she explained something to him.

“Is he going to come before we go to bed to play with us?”

He was finished dressing in his pajamas and watched as his mama started taking his dirty clothes from the floor along with his wet towel, waiting for her answer. “I don’t know, sweetheart, I hope so, but even if you don’t see him tonight he’ll be here in the morning.”

“But if he’s in the Starks’ house, why can’t we go and say goodnight to him?”

“Because it’s cold outside and you’re already dressed for bed,” Rhaegal knew she wasn’t going to change her mind. “I’m going to ask him if he can come and say goodnight to you and your brothers, if that comforts you.”

A smile spread on his lips as he nodded excitedly. “Yes!”

A giggle escaped his mother’s lips before she pushed his former clothes into a basket and hung his towel to dry. She sat on the toilet lid and tapped on her lap, waiting for him to sit on her. Rhaegal hated this part after the bath; his hair sometimes was too messy that it’d hurt when his mother pulled from it with the comb, trying to fix it.

Still, he did what his mother was expecting him to do. He took the comb and sat on her lap, handing her the object.

“Mama?”

She took her moment to answer him as she loved to fix his hair. “Mhm?”

“When are we coming back to Dragonstone?”

“In a few days.”

“Is Jon coming with us?”

There was a pause.

“No, but he’ll be visiting soon.”

His head spun around to look at her, eyes wide. “What?!”

“Stay still, Rhaegal,” she commanded as she moved his head forward again, the comb back on his hair. “He has his family in Winterfell and things to do here, but he’ll always be visiting us. Or we’ll visit him.”

“But he’s your boyfriend!” He protested, because he couldn’t believe Jon wasn’t coming with them; he didn’t like this, at all. “He should live with us!” He paused, a new idea coming to his mind. “I’ve got an idea! We don’t go back to Dragonstone; we stay here, in Winterfell, forever!”

He loved Winterfell, even if it was cold most of time since they’d arrived but the Starks were nice, Rickon was his friend, Ghost was always around and he loved to spend time with Jon. His mama wasn’t busy here as she was in Dragonstone and King’s Landing; they got to be with her all day if they wanted, there was no dumb work between them.

“We have to go back to Dragonstone, sweetheart. I have… things to do there as Jon has things here. But we’ll manage to be together. I promise.”

Rhaegal frowned and stayed silent the next minutes as his mother finished fixing his hair. Once she was done, she made him turn around and fixed it from the front, smiling proud as she always did when she touched their hairs.

“There. Now you can go keep playing with your brother.”

“When are you and Jon going to get married?” his mother’s eyes grew big as the smile disappeared from her face, but he didn’t understand why; married people lived together, it’d be the only way for Jon to live with them. “Boyfriends and girlfriends marry all the time, don’t they?”

His mama sighed. “Yes, but there’s always a little time before that happens…”

His frown deepened as he crossed his arms over his chest; why were grown-ups always so complicated? “Why?”

“Because couples need to get to know each other very well before that.”

“Why?”

The six year old knew his mother was starting to get annoyed by his questions, but he did not care and instead waited for her to reply like he had all the time in the world. “Because that’s how relationships work.”

“Why?”

There was the stern look that she always had whenever she grounded them. “Rhaegal.”

He uncrossed his arms and opened them in exasperation. “Don’t you want Jon to live with us?!”

“Yes, but it’s not that simple, you need to understand that –”

“You grown-ups make everything so hard!” He was yelling and he knew he’d be in trouble if he kept yelling at his mama, but he was angry; he thought that once Jon was his mother’s boyfriend, he’d get to be with them forever. This didn’t make any sense. “I will never grow up!”

He screamed one last time before running out of the bathroom and straight to his room, slamming the door shut behind him despite hearing his mother calling out for him. He walked quickly to his bed and jumped on it before hiding under the sheets, knowing he’d done the two things his mama told them to not do: scream at her and slam the door like that.

Rhaegal heard Viserion and Drogon asking their mother what happened but there was no response from her, the only thing he heard was the room’s door opening and closing. He closed his eyes tightly, hoping that would show his mama that he was asleep, but he felt her sitting at his feet, her hand reaching out to rest on his legs but he moved them away.

It wasn’t fair. Everything they’d done had been in vain. Their plans, their mission to get them together so they could all be a family… nothing of it worked.

“Rhaegal, I know how much you care about Jon, and I would gladly do everything in my power for all of us to be together, but… things take time.” Rhaegal was surprised she wasn’t using her angry voice... which meant she wasn’t mad at him for screaming at her. “Let me ask you something. If you didn’t see your brothers for a long time, you’d want to spend a lot of time with them when you saw them again, wouldn’t you?”

Rhaegal frowned and peered a bit over the sheets, seeing his mother’s soft purple eyes and tiny smile. He didn’t have to think about the answer to her question, but he didn’t understand where that was coming from. “Yes?”

“Well, Jon got his brothers and sisters back just months ago. He wants to spend as much time as possible with them.” Rhaegal sighed, knowing what she meant. Rickon had told him how happy he was that he got to have fun with them and his siblings because they’d been separated from years. “And look, when I had to travel for work and we were away from each other, what did we do?”

He pulled down the sheets completely and sat up straight. “We… saw each other in the phone. We talked on the phone. We sent pictures…”

“Yes, that’s what we can do with Jon if we miss him too much until we see him again.”

Rhaegal looked down, feeling sad. It was true it made him miss her less when they could speak or see each other through the phone, but he still missed her anyway. It’d be the same with Jon, but he couldn’t be mean to him and be mad at him because he had to stay here with his family.

“Okay…” he whispered, defeated. His mother gave him a nice smile, arching a knowing eyebrow to him and he did what she knew he would do, like he always did when he was upset. He crawled towards her and sat on her lap, enjoying the comfort of her arms around him as he snuggled against her. “But I’ll miss him.”

“Me too,” there was a warm kiss on his forehead as his eyes closed to the feeling. “It’ll be okay, I promise.”

There was a moment of silence before Rhaegal looked up at her, trying to show his mama how sorry he was.

“Sorry I yelled at you, mama. I know it was wrong.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. I understand you were upset.”

Rhaegal frowned slightly confused as a thought crossed his mind. “Mama… Jon doesn’t know how to use the phone very well. He didn’t even know how to take a selfie, Viserion showed him.”

His mama laughed which made him smile because he loved her laugh a lot. “I think we should help him with that, shouldn’t we?”

“Yeah!”

Both of them turned their heads to hear the front door of the cabin opening, followed by his brothers yelling Jon’s name excitedly. Rhaegal smiled, happy that Jon made it to here before they went to sleep; he saw that sparkle in his mama’s purple eyes whenever Jon was near as she kept staring at the closed door of the room.

“I wish we could live here forever. In this house. You, me, Jon, Viserion, Drogon and Ghost.”

His mother smiled at him and gave him a short nod of head. “Me too.”

“I’ll go see Jon. I love you mama,” he didn’t let her say it back that he kissed her cheek and jumped off of her lap, running out of the room with a loud scream, “Jon! We need your phone!”

Daenerys chuckled to hear her son’s last words and let out a long sigh, taking her own phone out to stare at the wallpaper. She wished Rhaegal’s wish could become true and that things were much simpler than they were… it broke her heart to know it hurt her baby to be away from Jon, but she couldn’t do anything about it.

She couldn’t demand of Jon to move with them when he had all his things here; his family, his people. And yet they couldn’t stay here; she couldn’t move aside the only thing that she’d come to the country for.

But Daenerys knew they’d make it, even if it was to become complicated, nothing was going to stand between them; no distance, no magazines, no companies. They'd find a solution to it.

Her phone started buzzing between her hands, Jon’s name appearing on the screen, showing her he wanted to FaceTime with her. Dany smiled to herself before getting up and answering as she walked out of the room.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments! They truly encourage me to update as soon as I can.
> 
> I'll leave you to this fluff with a bit of... something :p.
> 
> I hope to see your thoughts on the chapter! See you soon.

The rain pounding against the window along with the soft moans coming from Daenerys was music to Jon’s ears as he kissed his way down from her jaw to her neck, her legs enclosing around his hips to pull him into her even more, the familiar need starting to grow into ache if they didn't pull off the last clothes that divided them.

A strong thunder echoed outside followed by a lightning that Jon barely registered as Daenerys’ voice moaned his name into his ear, giving him the known clue that she couldn’t wait more.

His hand moved down to his tight, black boxers to pull them down – but the room’s door opened suddenly with shrill voices screaming for their mama.

“Holy fu –”

Jon rolled off of Daenerys so fast and hard that he dragged her with him, both of them falling on the ground of the other side of the bed where the three children were trying to climb up the bed in horror. His joggings – that he’d thrown away somewhere minutes before – was the first thing he reached to take as Daenerys desperately looked for her white shirt somewhere on the floor, hand holding on to the sheets that they’d pulled down with them as she had nothing on top of her seconds ago… well, except for him.

“Mama where are you?!”

“You were supposed to lock the door!” Jon whispered low enough for her to only hear, his hands moving fanatically to try to find her shirt.

“You are the one that always lock the door,” she hissed back, hand reaching out for his black shirt and putting it on without a second thought, since who knew where her own was. She was glad she hadn’t taken her shorts off before or she’d be on the floor trying to find them forever.

Daenerys got up, seeing Jon doing the same next to her; the lighting coming from outside showed her three little shadows on the bed before she turned on the lamp from the nightstand.

“Mama!” Viserion whimpered, chin trembling as he got up and jumped into his mother’s arms. “There’s a big storm outside!”

Drogon cocked his head. “Were you running?”

“What?”

“Why are you breathing like you were running?”

Jon had to purse his lips to suppress the smirk from coming to surface to see Daenerys’ cheeks becoming even redder than they were before. Her death-glare to his way was enough for him to try to keep a straight face as she looked back at her child.

“We weren’t running, but you scared us when you ran into the room. What do I always tell you? You have to knock on the door before opening it,” her hand kept caressing Viserion’s back as she tried to steady her breath. “We were… sleeping and you scared us. That’s all.”

Another strong thunder made the boys scream in fear, Rhaegal jumped from the bed to Jon’s arms as Drogon took what was left of Daenerys’ space, trying to hold on to her as his brother did.

“Alright, boys, it’s just a storm…” Dany whispered, knowing it’d be in vain and how this would end up, but she had to try. “We’ve been through storms before and nothing ever happens, right?”

“But what if something happens in this one?!” Rhaegal tightened his little arms around Jon’s neck; not understanding what was so funny that Jon was smiling as he held him. “We don’t want to sleep alone!”

“But –”

“Please mama, please!” Viserion begged with tears ready to leave his eyes. “Monsters love storms, they have to be out there ready to attack us!”

“There are no monsters, sweetling.”

“But the storm is there!”

Daenerys sighed in defeat, her purple gaze moving to Jon as some sort of apology, but she found nothing but understanding on his face. She couldn’t understand how good he could be.

“Alright then. You’ll sleep here.”

“Yay!”

The three boys were fast to let go of them to settle themselves on the bed as Dany frowned to see Jon approaching the chair that had his jacket hanging on it.

“What are you doing?”

Jon looked confused for a moment. “Going to my house?”

“Are you crazy?” She walked over to him and took the jacket from him, leaving it where it was before. “Did you see the storm outside?” his house was only a few meters from the cabin but he’d get soaked to the core even in that small distance.

“My house is right there, Dany, I can –”

“No, don’t go, Jon!” Viserion said worriedly, holding on to his stuffed wolf and sitting between his brothers. “Mama protects us from the storm, but you have to protect her!”

A playful smile tugged in Daenerys’ lips as she took his arm and walked backwards towards the bed. “That’s right, Jon Snow. You have to protect _me_.”

Jon rolled his eyes with amusement, “As the queen and her little dragons command.”

The boys giggled as they moved aside to leave space for their mother and Jon. Daenerys lay down next to Rhaegal as Jon placed himself behind her and covered them all with the sheets before stretching his arm to turn off the lamp on the nightstand behind him.

“Close your eyes and sleep,” Daenerys’ soft voice said to her children. “We’re all safe here.”

Jon would have never thought his night would end with spooning Daenerys and her children as his arm wrapping her waist reached Rhaegal’s little hand as well. He watched in silence as the boys fell asleep pretty soon, as if the only thing they needed was to have their mother near. The corners of his mouth quirked up to see their hands holding on to the other; from Drogon to Viserion to Rhaegal to Daenerys and him.

He remembered the three boys teaching him how to use a phone so they could all FaceTime each other when he was away. Dany told him about Rhaegal getting upset to find out he wasn’t coming with them to Dragonstone; it hurt him that the kids had to be in the middle of the distance relationship he was going to have with Daenerys.

But he wasn’t so sure of how much of a distance relationship was going to be since he didn’t know how long he was going to last away not only from his girlfriend but the three boys that stole his heart as much as their mama did. He couldn’t imagine a day without them; without the softness of Daenerys’s lips on and sparkling purple eyes staring right into him, without Rhaegal excitedly jumping to his arms to tell him about his day, without Viserion reading to him one of his many favorite books, without Drogon showing him the fights between his toy horses.

His heart ached to only imagine them leaving as he had to stay behind. “I love you,” Jon whispered into Dany’s hair, cuddling into her a bit more, interviewing his leg with hers, trying to erase the feeling that pained him by having her as close as possible.

He closed his eyes, not expecting her to be awake or to hold on to his arm as she whispered back, “I love you.”

Jon smiled slightly and kissed her head before resting his own against hers, wishing they could stay like that for good.

**I**

Daenerys smiled at the sight of Jon chasing after her three children; the boys squealing in excitement whenever he happened to catch one of them to tickle him till they would beg for the release. It was a wonderful morning, with the birds singing around them, the sun bright as ever, Ghost warming her feet with his soft fur as he rested on them, and the aroma of the coffee she had in the cup between her hands.

She watched as Jon wrapped his arms around Rhaegal and started tickling him, the child’s laughter echoing through the place. “Mama, help!” He begged between the giggles, squirming in Jon’s grip.

Daenerys’ lips turned up into a smile as her eyes landed down on the book she had opened on her lap about pirates and maids falling in love with each other; classy and cheesy Missy would say, but she had to admit she had a spot for these stories. She brought the coffee to her mouth, but as the hot liquid slightly touched her lips, the aroma of an unknown yet unpleasant flower filled her nostrils.

Lilies.

She was ten years old when Viserys, in one of his many rage attacks, had her head stuffed into a bunch of lilies for ten minutes straight, almost suffocating her with them, only letting her have a few breaths here and there so she could feel what _he_ felt when their mother died and there were so many lilies in her funeral that the only smell made him sick.

His punishment had its effect.

After that day, she couldn’t bring herself to look at lilies and not be reminded of the desperation she felt to not be able to breathe properly, to have the disgusting smell in her nostrils for hours, to imagine her mother lying with lilies around her because she gave birth to her and bled to death in the process.

Lilies reminded her of punishment, of suffocation, of death.

The birds singing were gone. The children’s innocent laughter was gone.

“Mama!” It was Rhaegal’s voice but long gone was the lightness that his voice carried a moment ago as there was fear instead. “Help!”

Daenerys looked up, finding the backyard empty. She swallowed hard, not understanding where this sudden desperation was coming from… but where were Jon and the boys? Her eyes glanced over to her feet, seeing Ghost was gone as well.

There was a screech sounding in the distance that made her tense as the cup of coffee she was holding slipped from her fingers; the brown drink falling all over the snow on the ground. Daenerys stared at the big stain, eyes narrowing to realize the snow… when it was raining last night. Her eyes moved to the bench in which she was sitting, her hands holding on to its edge, not remembering when the Starks got a bench for the backyard between their house and the cabin.

Something was wrong.

She needed to get to Jon and her children.

Daenerys closed the book and put it aside but as she stood up, she stopped before even walking, seeing a small cage a few meters from her, covered by a brown cloth and with small tails of different colors coming out between the bars. Black, green and white-cream.

A screech sounded again. Screeches… coming out from that small cage.

Her children.

The little dragons inside the cage were connected to her children and they were in danger. Daenerys tried to walk over to them, but something held her back – she looked back to find her waist chained to the bench. She fought against it but that only made her feel the pull on her free waist; she was chained from both arms, unable to get to her babies, that kept crying out for her.

She saw a shadow out of the corner of her eye, a hooded person with a brown cloak approached to the small cage. Daenerys didn’t know who the person was but she felt their bad intentions with the dragons inside – with her children.

“Let them go! Stop!” Daenerys screamed in vain, watching as the person started walking away with the cage in their hold as she tried to break free from the chains around her waists. “They are my children; you can’t take them from me – NO!”

Daenerys’ eyes snapped open; her breath was heavy as she took in her surroundings. She was in bed, Jon’s arm still wrapped around her, with her three boys lying down next to her, sound asleep.

It was a nightmare… that felt so real. Her hand reached out to touch Rhaegal’s forehead, moving aside a bit of hair, relieved to have him and his brothers safe with her. The desperation she’d felt to have someone taking them from her… it brought chills through her spine.

Dany looked over to the clock hanging on the wall and sighed to see it marked six in the morning. Sleep was off the list; she feared that if she stayed in bed she’d accidentally fall asleep and dream of that again. She needed to make herself coffee and clear her mind from that horrible feeling the nightmare left on her.

So she slipped out of bed as quiet as possible and kissed each of her boys’ foreheads, including Jon’s, before putting on a robe and walking out of the room. The water outside the windows was still drying from last night’s storm; this was real.

Daenerys walked towards the kitchen as the front door opened and her two friends, Irri and Doreah, walked in – apparently in the middle of a discussion.

“You can’t just do that, Doreah, are you out of –” Irri shut her mouth as soon as their eyes landed on her, surprised to see her standing there.

It was true this wasn’t usually the time she’d wake up, she’d be up at six and a half in the morning as an habit, and Doreah, Irri and sometimes Missandei would be already in the cabin preparing breakfast, unless she told them the previous night Jon was staying over – which she was starting to think she forgot to do last night.

“Good morning,” Daenerys whispered, frown drawing slightly to see the baffled expressions on their faces didn’t disappear; it was uncommon to see her awake this early but it was just half an hour before her normal time. “Is everything okay?”

Irri glanced over to Doreah for a moment before walking away from her and towards the fridge, ready to start preparing things. Daenerys felt the tension between them, but they’d always be fighting on something so she didn’t find it strange.

“Irri is just jealous as always,” Doreah commented before going straight to the kitchen cupboard. “She can’t have fun so no one can.”

Irri only glared at her before getting out ingredients to make pancakes, Daenerys supposed. She cleared her throat and folded her arms over her chest. “I’m sure that’s not the case, Doreah.”

“What are you doing up so early, khaleesi?” Irri asked, trying to change the topic of conversation.

“I… had a nightmare and I didn’t want to sleep anymore.” She watched as her friends kept working in the kitchen as she glanced over her shoulder to the hallway – she didn’t know how to tell them Jon was in the house.

Or more specifically; Doreah. Irri was delighted in knowing she was with Jon… and Doreah said that wasn’t a problem for her anymore, but she had yet to shake the feeling of awkwardness that came with talking about Jon when her friend was in the room. Missandei and Irri had told her she’d hooked up with another guy in a bar previous nights before and she’d been sure to ask her if she was _sure_ everything was okay with the Jon topic.

Doreah reassured her multiples times that it was fine, that Jon would have been another someone on her list of men, nothing serious.

Still… Jon wasn’t used to waking up with Irri and Doreah being in the cabin preparing breakfast or cleaning – much less with the woman that he almost kissed her once.

“Uh, girls, there’s no need to do that. You can go keep resting, I’ll be fine here.”

Irri was the first one to understand. “Did Jon stay the night?”

Daenerys didn’t have time to reply that the answer was presenting himself in the room; shirtless, messy curly black hair, scratching the back of his neck as he yawned with his eyes closed.  He opened them to find three pair of eyes staring at him; Dany had to hide a smile to see a flush moving from his neck to his pale cheeks.

Jon cleared his throat and folded his arms, as if that would cover his bare chest and marked abs. “Um. Good morning.”

 “Good morning,” Irri answered back along with a giggle. “Alright, khaleesi. We’ll see you later.”

Doreah rolled her eyes and walked out without a word. Daenerys gave Irri a smile as she walked past her and out of the place. Jon ran his hand through his hair, letting out a sigh.

“That was awkward.”

“Sorry?” Dany said with an innocent smile. “I forgot to tell them not to come early in the morning.”

Jon arched an eyebrow, walking towards her. “Like you forgot to lock the door?”

“But you were the one to always lock the door!” Her smile widened before melting into his lips. “I owe you one.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” he titled his head to the side. “But if you want to make up for it, I won’t protest.”

Daenerys rolled her eyes slightly before she placed a kiss on Jon’s full mouth and pressed herself to his chest, arms surrounding each other as she set her eyes on the fireplace, seeing the sparkling flames inside it.

“You’re up early,” Jon commented, resting his chin on her head, one of his hands going back and forth on her back. “Did Rhaegal’s kick wake you up? Because it certainly did with me.”

She chuckled; she’d had a few kicks from her son’s arms or legs but she was too used to them that they didn’t have any more effect. “No, I grew used to them. It was… a nightmare.”

Jon moved away from her as she hated to drift away from the coldness of his skin that she so loved. She didn’t know he managed to never actually feel cold, nothing like what his body reflected; he truly was from the winter.

“What was it?”

Daenerys considered telling him about the horror her nightmare was about, how hopeless she’d felt to the point she didn’t want to fall asleep again in fear that the scenario would come back in her head.

But it was just a nightmare – she shouldn’t give it more importance than it had.

“Nothing serious. I just couldn’t find my children. But it was just a dream.”

His dark eyebrows came in together, his lips pursing slightly for a moment. “Yes. Everything that happened with Euron… I understand where that can come from,” he was quiet and thoughtful for a moment. “But he’s not going to get any close to you or them. I wouldn’t let anything happen to any of you.”

His words did calm the mixed emotions she felt inside, knowing them to be true; if there was anyone she trusted in protecting her and her children, was Jon. Jon, whose dark eyes lit up every time they looked at hers, whose attention was focused as never in every word Viserion managed to read to him from his lovely books, whose lips formed a wide smile whenever Drogon would seek for his help in a game, whose arms would never let Rhaegal fall when he’d ask him to make him fly.

Her heart swelled with love to know Jon would always be there not just for her but for her children, too.

“I know,” she whispered before resting her forehead against his lips, closing her eyes and letting herself relax into his arms for a moment. Nothing bad would happen to her children if she and Jon were there to prevent it from happening, her head just liked to mess with her fears, as always. She smiled lightly before her purple eyes moved up to meet his grey ones. “Are you ready to make your famous pancakes?”

Jon smirked down at her. “You’re still offended the boys prefer my pancakes over yours?”

She snorted as her long hair flipped all over his face when she turned around to walk back to the kitchen. “Pf. It’s matter of time before I beat you on that one.”

Dany saw out of the corner of her eye his lips turning up into a smile before he walked after her, ready to start cooking the things her children loved the most in the morning – besides her hot cocoa. He wasn’t going to take her place on that. She stood with crossed arms and legs against the table behind her, watching the muscles of his back as he reached out for the flour in the corner of the kitchen counter.

Daenerys bit her lip; she was definitely going to make it up for him… later.

“Morning,” Viserion whispered, small fists scratching his eyes as he walked towards her, grey stuffed wolf in one hand.

Daenerys lifted him off the ground once he got to her, his head rested on her shoulder as his eyes closed, clearly sleepy. “What are you doing up, sweetling? It’s a bit early for you.”

“Rhaegal won’t stop moving,” was his automatic answer as he yawned.

Jon chuckled and Dany smiled as she ran her fingers through his cream-blonde hair. “Good to know I wasn’t alone on that.”

Viserion half opened his golden eyes, eyebrows drawing in curiosity to the man’s way. “Are you making pancakes, Jon?”

“Pancakes?” Another small voice asked. Daenerys didn’t know what surprised her more; if the fact that was Drogon was awake this early given he was always the last one to get out of bed, or that he was bare chest, with no warm shirt on. “I want some!”

“Drogon, where’s your pajama’s shirt?”

The child frowned up at her; he didn’t like to be talked to in the morning, much less with the tone of voice she was using on him. “I took it off.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Because I wanted to.”

“No, you go put a shirt on. It’s cold.”

His frown only deepened. “Why? Jon doesn’t have a shirt on either!”

Daenerys sighed and left Viserion sitting on the edge of the table, knowing this wasn’t going to end in the good way. “Jon is an adult, he’s used to the cold; go put a shirt on.”

“I do not want to,” the boy was sure to emphasize his words, little arms folding over his chest. “I can get used to the cold too, I am okay.”

“I used to catch colds for being too exposed to the cold when I was your age too,” Jon suggested behind her, almost afraid to get in the conversation but knowing the child had to hear it from him. “And I’m going to put a shirt on once I’m done with this. You should listen to your mother.”

“But you slept without your shirt on. I want to sleep without my shirts too!”

“Yes, but –”

“Jon is grown, his body can take temperatures in a different way to yours,” Daenerys interrupted Jon, for she knew that if he kept trying to give him explanations, that would be for nothing and Drogon would find his way to turn it around. “We’ll go find your shirt and I won’t hear anything else, Drogon.”

He hit his foot against the ground. “It’s not fair! I want to resist the cold like Jon does!”

Daenerys sighed, hands on hips. “You will, when you’re grown, meanwhile you have to have your shirt on in winter; let’s get you changed.”

Jon watched as she took her son by his hand and led him off to the hallway, the boy stomping and groaning all the way to it. He couldn’t help the smile that shaped his lips as he remembered Daenerys telling him Rhaegal wanted his hair just like him, even if he hated his long hair before, and now Drogon wanted to resist the cold like he did.

It made him proud these boys looked up at him so much. But it was starting to hit him that he had to set the best example for them since they wanted to follow his steps these days; he should be getting his shirt – from Daenerys – as soon as he finished with the first step of the pancakes.

Jon felt something tickling on the side; he moved away and looked down to find Viserion reaching out to touch his latest cut, his golden eyes growing wide and filling with worry to see he caught him.

“Sorry, Jon, I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

He smiled and shook his head. “It’s okay, you didn’t hurt me. It tickled if anything. Come here,” he took him and helped him sat on the kitchen counter, even if Daenerys thought of it as inappropriate, Viserion liked to watch closely when something was being cooked. “I think this cut is cured already, but the doctor will confirm it in a couple of days.”

“Oh,” the six year old stayed silent for a moment, watching him carefully. “And the others scars?”

Jon looked down to his own torso; he’d come to ignore the superficial scars around his body. Being on his own after dropping from college to go after his brothers and sisters had its consequences, but he’d been over them. Daenerys never commented on any of the scars, perhaps she didn’t mind them; perhaps she didn’t dare to ask about them yet.

Viserion was still waiting for an answer, though.

“I got them when I was… looking for my brothers and sisters. There were bad people in the streets and I had to defend myself from them…”

The boy frowned. “Like when you fought the White Walkers?” Jon nodded, hearing in the distance Daenerys and Drogon still arguing about the shirt. “But something good came with getting this scar, right? I got one here,” he mentioned towards his right knee with his finger. “When I was riding my bike for first time and I cried a lot but mama told me that the scar wouldn’t go away but it was going to be there to remind me that even if I fell and got hurt a little bit, it would be healed and I could try again.”

“That’s a very good lesson.” Jon noted.

“What good came from getting that hurt?” Viserion innocently asked, finger on chin trying to figure out the answer. He knew one; getting Daenerys to stay a week more. It was something good and selfish that came out from it, but something it made him happy nonetheless. “You got to be friends with the Free Folk, right? It’s always good to have many friends!”

Friends would be a strong word to relate with the Free Folk from his part, but he liked to think that the title could be extended to Tormund, at least. He wished that everything was truly mended between them and that he could count on him if the time ever came to it. They’d counted on each other many times before, the first time it was Jon’s job to save him from the Wall’s police since they were looking for him for some crime he made in Scotland…

Tormund told him that then that he’d worked with people in Scotland once, very powerful people that needed a job done and they paid him a very good amount of money for that, but it’d been illegal.

What did he say the people’s name was?

It was…

“It’s good, right?” Viserion asked unsure, probably to see the surprised expression on his face. “That you made friends.”

“Friends…” Jon whispered as he looked at the boy, a huge smile breaking in on his face. “Viserion. You are a genius.”

Viserion was confused for the quick kiss Jon placed on his forehead before running off to his mama’s room. Why was he a genius? He shrugged, not understanding why but knowing he couldn’t wait to see Rhaegal and Drogon’s faces when he told them that Jon called him a genius; they were always fighting over who looked more like Jon, who Jon liked more last night.

Rhaegal had yet to wake up, but Drogon was awake… even if he was already grumpy, Viserion wanted to tell him for the way he rubbed it on his face that _he_ had black hair like Jon.

The little blonde boy jumped off of the kitchen counter, held on to his grey wolf and ran towards his room, where his mama kept trying to get his brother in a shirt.

“Drogon, guess what!”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to you all for your kind comments as always, I l o v e them! :)
> 
> I think a good summary of this chapter would be; it's all fun and games... until it isn't. And what's left unexplained in this chapter is probably explained in the next ones.
> 
> Hope to hear from you!

“They arrived this morning from Tyrion.”

Daenerys gave her friend a nod as she took the four airline tickets from her hands. It felt unreal that in less than three days she’d be leaving this place that had grown more in her than Dragonstone had ever had.

“Thank you.”

She saved the tickets in her purse and walked out of the cabin with Missandei by her side. The Stark backyard was filled with laughter and happiness; long gone was the storm as the sun shined bright in the sky, the mud almost dried off to the point the Starks and Targaryens were eager to spend the day outside.

Rickon had begged his uncle to skip school today since he had only a few days to spend with the young friends he made in the last weeks. She’d reassured him that they would be visiting Winterfell as much as they could once they came back home, but the boys didn’t want to miss any minute here.

She watched with crossed arms and a smile drawn on face as three Starks; Rickon, Arya and Sansa, helped three Targaryens getting on the backs of wolves. She still remembered how threatening the black and grey wolves had looked to her in her first day here, but now she felt as if she could trust these wild animals with her children’s safety any time.

Rickon helped Viserion on Shaggydog’s back, Arya instructed Drogon to hold on to Nymeria’s fur as Sansa finished settling Rhaegal on Ghost, listening to the boy’s story about losing his first baby tooth all the way. He’d made sure to excitedly tell everyone about it as soon as he woke up with the tooth on the sheets, at his face’s side.

“Alright boys!” Arya said as she took steps back along with his brother and sister. “Go!”

Dany chuckled at her boys’ screams at first as the wolves took off on a run around the backyard. They’d been delighted to Rickon’s offer to ride their wolves since they were small enough to do it – she didn’t hesitate to give in their wishes, knowing the animals wouldn’t go at much speed with the boys on their backs and they weren’t as big as horses if they fell off of them.

“Yay, this is amazing!” Drogon screamed as his fingers held on to Nymeria’s fur.

“Woohoo!” Viserion yelled back, despite the bit of fear that his face showed as his arms held on to Shaggydog’s neck for his dear life.

“Go on, Ghost! Look mama, I’m riding Ghost!”

Daenerys offered her son a bright smile as Ghost ran past her. She glanced over her shoulder to see if Jon was somewhere in sight, but he wasn’t; he had to still be on the phone with Tormund, convincing him to help him with the people he knew in Scotland.

He told her that Tormund had worked for people in Scotland; they paid him, but there could still be a way that he could get to them as some sort of favor. Jon just needed the people in Scotland to talk with him, that was all; he knew that if they were willing to listen he could make them change their minds and get them back on track with them.

Missandei stood next to her, checking something on her phone.

“What’s going on with Irri and Doreah this time? They were fighting this morning.”

The brunette shrugged, starting to reply to a text, probably from Grey Worm. “I think it was something about a guy Doreah hooked up with last night. Irri didn’t like him. But they didn’t say anything beyond that. The usual.”

Daenerys nodded slightly; this wouldn’t be the first time Doreah hooked up with the wrong guy and Irri was always looking out for her; it didn’t surprise her they’d fight over that.

A call from Grey Worm showed up on Missandei’s phone screen. Her friend giggled and answered the call, stepping away from her. She was actually excited to come back to Dragonstone and the roles would reverse once they were there; Missy would have her love by her side again when she’d be left alone, waiting for a call or a text like her friend had been doing these two weeks.

“Jon didn’t come back yet, did he?”

Dany was surprised to find Sansa by her side, speaking to her but with her blue eyes focused on the wolves and children running around. Jon hadn’t said anything about it, but she’d thought the oldest Stark girl would be beyond mad for losing an important business for Winterfell because of careless kisses shared in the toy store.

“No, he didn’t. He must still be talking to Tormund.”

Sansa gave her a short nod. “Jon is good with words, he’ll get it. Though I don’t think they deserve to trade with us – they’re cowards and not trustworthy. But my uncle is firm to believe that they’re our best chance.”

She frowned, slightly confused. “You’re not mad that the deal was lost?”

“I should have. But no,” the girl looked at her then. “It was immature of them to break with us just because we’re on your side. It was matter of time before everyone knew about you and Jon, it had to happen, and there’s nothing to be ashamed of that.”

Daenerys arched an eyebrow, utterly shocked. If someone had told her a week ago that Sansa Stark would be defending her relationship with Jon, she would have laughed at their face.

Her head titled to the side to remember her first words. “You’re on my side?”

Sansa stared at her for long seconds, as if she was expecting her to say something else. “Well, yes? You’re Jon’s girlfriend. You’re too in love with each other, it’s obvious we’ll be on your side,” a small grin raised on her pink lips. “Besides, I’m sure the company will be better off on your hands. I’ve been there to see what Cersei did, all for the sake of power. I hope you make her pay.”

“She will,” Daenerys was sure to nod firmly, taking in the seriousness of their words. “Once she’s out of the Seven Kingdoms, no one will there to protect her and a new trial for her crimes can be made. The Tyrells and Martells will surely do one. They’ll have my support, but with no corruption in the middle. If you want…”

“I’ll think about it,” Sansa didn’t let her finish, not wanting her to say it. She knew it would be hard for her, but Dany truly hoped Sansa would make be part of that trial; the Starks deserved justice. “Thank you.”

Daenerys gave her a warm smile before watching her walk off towards her sister. A couple of minutes passed by before strong arms encircled her waist and lifted her off the ground, swinging her around and making her giggle like a child, knowing who it was behind her.

“You did it?”

“I did!” Jon said with an enthusiasm she’d never seen in him as he placed a kiss in the crook of her neck before she turned to face him. “I talked to Tormund, it took me like half an hour, but I convinced him by reminding him of all the times we saved each other’s ass. He told me I’d owe him one but…” she tried to hold back the laugh to see him so excited and speaking so fast. “He agreed to talk to the Hendersons in the end. And he just called back to say they agreed to have a small talk with us!”

She ran a hand through his hair, her heart melting to see such shinning in his dark eyes, her lips turning up into a smile as wide as his. “I’m happy for you, love.”

Jon put a finger on her chin and caught her lips in a firm and delicate kiss, smiling as he broke apart from her and rested his forehead against hers. “My uncle is making a reunion at the town hall for this small victory. I want you to come with me.”

“Me?” She was a bit surprised to say the least, for it was true everyone knew about them, but it was another thing showing up by Jon’s side in a politics reunion in Winterfell. Nonetheless, Jon nodded, waiting for her answer. “Yes, I’d love to, if that’s what you want.”

Jon’s smile only widened as he placed a kiss on her forehead before wrapping her arms around her, her head resting on his chest as they watched her three little boys still riding the three wolves, along with his sisters and brother encouraging them.

Daenerys was definitely going to miss this, but she was going to stay true to her word to her boys and Rickon and she’d take flights to here as much as she could.

“Mr. Snow,” a whisper was heard behind them. They turned around to find one of the maids with the kitchen’s back door half-opened. “Mr. Stark waits for you all in the living room.”

**I**

Jon was starting to grow impatient with his uncle’s delay. He didn’t understand what the reason to have them all reunited could be, since Sansa would be the only one interested in knowing that they were only a step away from getting back the deal with the Hendersons, even though she didn’t like them at all.

The Targaryens boys weren’t amused to get off of the wolves’ backs, but they did as they were told, and now Drogon sat on Daenerys’ lap, Viserion on his lap and Rhaegal between him and her. Arya and Rickon took the space that was left next to Daenerys in the biggest couch and Sansa took the single one at the right, with Bran on his wheelchair at her side.

Benjen Stark made his appearance at last. Jon eyed the letter between his hands as he took the one empty single couch to sit on it and stare at the people present in the room.

“I apologize for the delay. I had to answer a last minute call, a pleasant one…” his blue eyes settled on Daenerys. “I’ve been informed Euron Greyjoy was seen getting out of town this morning. He’d come on Cersei’s behalf to try to lure us back into the Company but I refused and now he’s gone as well, at last.”

Daenerys let out a small sigh of relief, arms wrapping more around her son’s waist. “That’s very good to hear. Thank you.”

Benjen gave her a nod and a brief smile before his gaze darted around the room. “As most of you know, the deal with the company from Scotland, with the Hendersons, had been broken because of… a series of events.”

Arya snorted. “More like because they were too much of a chicken to stand up to Cersei.”

Jon suppressed a smile, dark eyes locking with purple ones for a second to see a similar expression on her face. Benjen only gave his niece a look and cleared his throat before continuing.

“But Jon fixed it as soon as he could and now we have likely chances to get the deal back.”

“You did it,” Sansa said to his brother with a small, proud smile.

“Of course he did,” Arya said quickly. Jon gave a smile to both of his sisters; Sansa didn’t need him to do that because she wasn’t interested in their deal, but it made him happy she was proud all the same. Arya wanted him to get them back or something even better, just to shut everyone’s mouths about him. “I knew he would.”

“As a small celebration for this, we’re going to have a reunion at the town hall. I want all the Starks there and –”

“Including me?” Rickon and Arya asked at the same time with different tones of voices.

“Yes,” he answered to the girl and then moved his attention to the boy. “No. You’re still too young for it.”

Both Starks groaned, Arya dropping herself against the couch’s back. “But why me? Will it be like a party or something?”

“A small celebration,” the seventeen year old groaned again, just to show her disgust about it. Everyone knew how much Arya hated the politics stuff.  “You too, Bran.”

“I don’t want to,” the boy simply said.

“But you will,” their uncle’s voice was stern and cold. He sighed and looked down to the letter between his hands that Jon had observed earlier. “We’re not just going to celebrate about politics matters. There will be a private, family announcement to give.”

Jon saw out of the corner of his eye as Daenerys shifted in her place. “We can –”

“Stay, Daenerys,” Benjen mentioned with his hands for her to stay put. “I’m sure your presence is wanted for this news.”

Jon frowned in utterly confusion; his uncle hadn’t mentioned anything of a family announcement in the almost two hours they spent working together. Judging by all his siblings’ faces, they were as clueless as he was.

“Jon,” he looked back at him, seeing his focus was all on him now. “I apologize if I was too hard on you about the magazine and the company, but I didn’t want your reputation almost ruined because of it, so there wouldn’t be any objections about this moment.”

Jon was disoriented as ever. He appreciated his uncle’s apologies even if he didn’t need them, but he didn’t quite understand what moment he was referring to.

“You fought hard for this, Jon, even if you didn’t know it. I wasn’t here for most of it, but you were. You were ready to be by your brother’s side to fight for our family. You travelled through all the North looking for your brothers and sisters. You fought Ramsay Bolton, who was destroying our home, our town… you got him imprisoned. You and your sister took back Winterfell, and yet you refused to become Mayor because, according to you, you’re not a Stark… and you wanted to keep Winterfell’s traditions for Starks to rule. You defended Winterfell from the Free Folk. And now you managed to get a wildling to help us, to help Winterfell. Even if you didn’t have our name, our people saw beyond that and named you King in the North, because you are a Stark as much as we are.”

His uncle handed him the letter he’d been holding for the past minutes. Jon took it, lost at words for all the things he’d just said to him, clueless as to what happening and how a letter could have the answer to that question.

Jon ripped the white envelope open and took the paper from the inside. His eyes scanned it but he couldn’t focus on anything else other than two words that hit him like nothing had ever done before. His mind was blank, for he couldn’t believe what was in front of him.

It wasn’t possible.

“Jon…” Viserion whispered, narrowing his eyes at the paper in front of them, and moving slightly on his lap, his little grey wolf appearing in his sight, next to the paper. “Stark. Jon Stark. That’s what it says, right?”

Jon heard the gasps around him; he felt the burning eyes on him, but his gaze kept on the two, black words that he’d wanted to be able to read as long as he could remember.

 _Jon Stark_.

“The last time I saw your father, he gave me a letter that I didn’t open until I returned to Winterfell. It had his signature, Robert Baratheon’s signature, Jon Arryn’s signature – he tried to have known names signatures on the paper so no one would say it’s not legal. It’s taken months and it’s been hard to introduce it on his will like he wanted, but it’s been done. He clearly says that as one of his last wills, he wanted you to have the Stark name.”

Jon read more clearly the other words around the paper; it was a birth certificate. His mother’s name was still unknown, only marked as S. Snow, but where his father’s name should have been in his original birth certificate and never was, now was written Eddard Stark.

“It’s not the original new birth certificate – it needs your approval for it to be made, for your name to be changed, but that’s how it would look.”

Jon swallowed hard, suddenly feeling out of breath. He gently took Viserion off of his lap to let him sit next to his brother and stood, looking down for first time to see all the persons around him – they were as shocked as he was, staring at him with wide eyes and parted mouths, waiting for him to say something.

But he couldn’t speak. He needed to be alone.

Jon walked around the couch to head to the stairs, but as he passed the space between Bran’s wheelchair and Sansa’s couch, he felt his arm being held back, fingers taking his waist. He looked down to find Bran’s eyes staring into him, but they weren’t unreadable or emotionless like they’d been for the past months; they were warm and understanding, as if the Bran that Jon always knew was inside him was looking back at him after all these years.

“You have always been a Stark to us.”

Something hit his chest and wrapped its arms around him – Arya; he felt his shirt getting wet by her tears, he saw Sansa getting up to hug what was left of space by holding on to his free arm, Rickon walking to them to get in the middle of their sisters and cling to him.

Jon looked down, finding the three six years old at their mother’s side, with a bit of confusion and happiness on their faces; he met Daenerys’ purple eyes shimmering with emotional tears.

He moved slightly away from his siblings, knowing he needed to get out of there or else he’d break in front of them. “I need… to be alone, for a minute.”

He was afraid that if he saw Arya’s teary eyes he’d lose it right there, so Jon turned around and walked away as fast as he could, running up the stairs to the room that he’d changed over the last days for Daenerys’ room.

He sat at the edge of his bed, head moving up to stare at the framed picture on his nightstand; the picture of his father with all his children, a few months before they were ripped apart. Father had said he wanted a picture with his children and Jon had thought it shouldn’t be fit for him to be there, but Rickon asked why he wouldn’t be part of it, Bran protested, Arya exclaimed if he wasn’t there neither would she, Sansa, annoyed at the fuss that it was being made, repeated their father’s words about _all_ of his children, and Robb just took him and dragged him with them.

Robb had been placed by Catelyn on Ned’s side, but his father himself took him and put him on his other side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, despite his wife’s glare.

A Stark.

His eyes stung with the water inside them that he didn’t want to leave out. He brought a fist to them and scratched them as a pale, soft hand touched his arm and a chin rested on his shoulder.

He didn’t have to look up to see who it was. Her touching was enough and the blonde-silver curls appearing in sight confirmed it.

“You can let it out,” she whispered near his ear, fingers interweaving with his as she gave them a light squeeze. “When we met and you said your name, I took you as a Stark, even if you told me you weren’t one; you looked like one, you acted like one, I knew right there that you had the wolf blood in your veins even if you didn’t carry the name. You never needed it to prove what you are, but there’s no one that deserves it more than you, Jon.”

Jon’s lips turned to the side, a light chuckle escaping from them as he kept his eyes fixed on the paper that his free hand held. “Robb used to say that to me. That he thought it was unfair that the person that showed to be the most Stark, despite him, _obviously_ ,” his melancholy smile grew a bit, remembering his brother’s teasing one every time he said it. “Didn’t carry our name. But he always believed someday father would come to his senses and make it possible.”

He glanced over to see the smile settling on Daenerys’ face, her eyes finding his as she slightly titled her head. “What would Robb tell you now?”

“I told you so, _Stark_ ,” he could almost hear his voice in the distance; feel the pat on his shoulder before the tight hug he’d give to him.

Oh how he wished Robb was here for this.

He felt the hot tears leaving his eyes and invading his face as he allowed his head to be moved to Daenerys’ neck, felt her arms holding on to him as he let himself be comforted by her.

Jon Stark.

He was a Stark.

**II**

“I, Benjen Stark, welcome to you all, my nephew, Eddard Stark’s legitimate son; Jon Stark.”

Daenerys smiled and clapped along with everyone else, standing between the two Stark girls and watching as Jon brought up a hand to wave at everyone, probably wishing for this to over and for everyone to stop looking at him.

“He hates this.” Arya laughed next to her, hands still clapping.

“As much as you hate your dress?” Sansa teased her from Dany’s other side.

“Shut up.”

Arya had been complaining all evening about the short, knees-length white dress Sansa forced her to wear, even though she was trying to cover it with the black leather jacket on top of it. Daenerys thought she looked cute, but she knew better than to tell her so. Jon did, though, and it gained him a punch on the arm.

Sansa encouraged her into the black long dress with cleavage she was wearing, telling her she had to give a very good impression in her first small party with the Northerners, even if she had already had managed to get a good reputation with helping them in a time of need. Jon certainly liked the dress and according to his words, would like it even more when it was off of her body.

Her boys were delighted to see her, their big eyes widening and mouths dropping when she’d walked out of her room, telling her about how beautiful she looked until she kissed their foreheads and instructed them to be good for Irri, Doreah and Missandei for the night.

Jon walked over to them, hand playing with the black bow tie on his neck that matched with his whole suit. He looked handsome and just like his sister would complain about his clothes every five minutes, not being used to them.

“Stop playing with that,” Sansa hissed at his brother, smacking his hand off the bow tie; Daenerys laughed slightly, for the nineteen year old woman had been scolding his siblings about the clothes – except for the ever quiet Bran – for most part of the night. It reminded her of when she’d have to deal with her own boys. “You and Arya can’t help yourselves, can you?”

“Small party my ass,” Arya said under her breath, crossing her arms and gazing away. “When is this going to end? It’s been hours.”

“Half an hour,” Jon answered her, arm wrapping around her waist as he brought her closer to him, eyes scanning her up and down, a smirk rising on his lips. “I sure hope so.”

Daenerys rolled her eyes and fixed the crooked bow tie on him. “You’re going to take it off if you keep tugging at it. There,” her hands moved up to his face, moving his curly hair away from it so she had room to cup his cheeks. Her heart pounded every time she looked into his eyes and they reflected the happiness he felt inside. “You’re getting all the looks tonight.”

“I beg to differ. I could swear I saw more than one man turning around to look at you, which reminds me…” he took a glass of champagne from the tray a waitress was holding when she passed by them and cleared his throat loudly, gaining everyone’s attention as silence settled in the room. Daenerys looked at him, trying to hide her confusion. “I would like to say a few words, please. First of all, thank you to all of you for being here to celebrate my family’s announcement and getting back the company from Scotland. But I would like to raise our glasses for Daenerys Targaryen,” she knew that if her eyes could fall out from her face they would have, for the way they widened at her boyfriend, not expecting this at all. “She came to Winterfell to help us with the Free Folk that threatened our town. She and her men stood by my side when the time to face the wildlings came, and not only that, but they fought along with me and our men against the White Walkers. They could have returned but they didn’t, and she had a huge part in defeating them once and for all,” he looked at her with a genuine smile and raised his glass. “For Daenerys Targaryen.”

There was silence in the room for a moment before everyone copied Jon’s actions. “For Daenerys Targaryen!”

Everyone drank from their glasses as Jon moved closer to Daenerys, his smile turning into a teasing one as she bit her lip, shaking her head slightly.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to. Everyone knows me as Jon Stark now; everyone should know what you did for Winterfell.”

Her hands took hold of his coat before she moved him closer to her and caught his lips between hers, tasting the alcohol on them, feeling his fingers clinging to her waist.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Arya’s voice sang next to them. “People’s coming up.”

Daenerys felt the smile on Jon’s lips before he broke apart from her to face the two old men walking to their way; she put her best smile on and watched as they congratulated Jon on his new name, praising his actions for Winterfell and giving them a nod and thank you’s when they wished her good luck on her trial against Cersei Lannister.

But something caught her attention behind the men.

A girl walking across the room with a casket full of lilies.

Daenerys’ breath was cut off, Jon and the men’s voices becoming distant to her ears even if they were just next to her; she started to feel the heat rising inside her, sweat starting to gather under her palms.

“What the hell, Sansa?!” Arya’s scream snapped her out of her mind, making her look down to what the Stark sisters were staring; a big stain of coffee was spreading on Arya’s white dress, near her knees. “Coffee instead of champagne and spilling it on me? Seriously?”

“It was an accident!”

Daenerys pulled her arm away from Jon and stepped backwards, starting to feel like everything around her was spinning; the voices, the objects, the floor. Something was wrong – very wrong.

Her feet kept walking backwards till they almost crashed against something. She turned around, finding Bran Stark on his wheelchair, looking up at her with the smallest hint of worry in his eyes.

“You have to go to them.”

Her children. The lilies, the coffee; it was her dream. Her little dragons were in danger.

Daenerys rushed past Bran and towards the exit, taking her phone out of her purse to find Missandei’s contact and call her. She put the phone on her ear and waited for long seconds, almost a minute, before it reached the voicemail.

“Dany?”

Her trembling fingers found Irri’s number next… voicemail.

“Daenerys!” She was taken back by a hand and turned around when she almost reached the stairs to walk down the exit. Jon was frowning down at her, dark eyes staring into hers with concern. “Why did you run like that? What’s going on?”

“I need to get to my children. My nightmare is happening… something is wrong with them, I can feel it.”

Jon’s frown only deepened as he took his moment to take in her words, his eyes recognizing her own desperation, for which he had only to nod at her. He took her hand and caught up with her fast walking; Daenerys heard him saying a few words to the Dothraki guards that were staying outside the building before she got into his car, calling Doreah this time.

It reached the voicemail as soon as she put the phone in her ear; it had to be turned off.

Jon was driving soon enough, asking her questions she couldn’t focus on, not with the desperation and worry growing inside her with each passing second, but what horrified her the most was that these feelings weren’t hers.

“Daenerys, are you listening to –”

“Where are the wolves?” was the first thing that came to her mind, remembering the three wolves were to stay in the house. They would never let something happen to her children, she knew that. But Jon was silent at her question, which made her look at him. “Jon!”

“Shaggydog and Nymeria are out haunting somewhere in the dark parts of the forest… Ghost should be the only one at home.” She trusted in Ghost, she did, but something told her he wouldn’t be enough this time. “My guards are at home, your guards, too.”

“Not all of them.”

Most of the Stark’s security was at the town hall for the celebration and given that was where the major of the family was. Sir Jorah and another six Dothraki were at home, but she couldn’t know if all seven of them would be guarding the house or in their own places.

Her phone buzzed in her hands. Daenerys looked down and quickly answered to see Irri’s name appearing on the screen. She didn’t have time to say a word that there was another voice on the other side.

“Mama?!”

Her fingers held on to the phone. “Drogon?! What’s happening, where –”

“Mama, help!” Rhaegal cried out this time, with evident fear in his voice.

There was some sound in the background that she couldn't figure out what it was before the familiar tone was heard again, indicating the end had ended. “Rhaegal? Rhaegal!” Dany yelled in desperation, seeing Irri’s name disappearing in front of her blurry vision.

“What did they say?”

“Rhaegal asked for help – go faster, Jon! We have to get there fast!”

She knew Jon was going as fast as the car allowed him so, but the seconds felt like minutes and the minutes like hours until they drove around the corner of the street and saw that the doors of the iron fence around the Starks residence opened, the two men supposed to be standing at the entrance’s sides lying down on the ground, unconscious.

Daenerys didn’t wait for the car to stop, only for it to slow down enough for her to jump out of it, hands clinging to her dress to be able to run faster, despite the high heels hurting her feet as she ran into the front yard, seeing the three guards, that would always be in the entrance of the mansion’s front door, passed out as well.

“What the hell happened in here?” Jon whispered out of shock next to her.

His voice snapped her out of her own, though. She swallowed hard as her chest felt heavier to imagine what could have happened… her eyes darted around the Stark house, towards the path she would always take to go to the cabin in the backyard.

Daenerys ran off, Jon’s voice screaming behind her, “Daenerys, wait! There could still be –”

She stopped dead in her tracks to see Sir Jorah and three of her Dothraki guards that had instructions to stand all around the cabin in the night, lying on the dry ground under them.

The cabin’s door was opened.

“Rhaegal!” She cried out before running to the cabin, knowing in her heart it would be in vain. “Drogon, Viserion!”

Missandei was lying on the large couch in front of the fireplace, looking sound asleep; Irri was in the middle of the place, but Daenerys’ heart stopped to not see her eyes closed, but open and lifeless.

“No!” Her heels echoed against the wooden floor as she ran her way towards her friend, kneeling in front of her, seeing the mark of a rope around her neck. She took her by her arms and shook her up, waiting for some response from her. “Irri?!”

Jon was soon by her side, placing two fingers on Irri’s neck, his dark eyes looking up at her with nothing but sadness, his head slightly shaking from side to side. Daenerys closed her eyes, but before she could let out any of the sudden pain consume her, she stood up and ran to her sons’ room, stopping in the doorway to see the scene in front of her.

Everything looked like hours ago, when she’d kissed each of their foreheads before she walked out the room, the three of them looking like little angels as they weaved at her, sitting on the edge of Drogon’s bed.

She’d ordered them to clean the room before she left, so everything was in place; the beds were made, the toys were in the toy chest, the floor had nothing on it – except for Viserion’s little grey wolf, lying in the middle of the room.

Daenerys walked inside the room in slow steps, getting down on her knees in front of the stuffed animal, her hand reaching out to lift it off of the ground.

She didn’t see Jon sitting by her side, but she felt his arms around her, bringing her close to his chest, felt his chin resting on the top of her head.

“Where are they, Jon?” she didn’t recognize her own voice, feeling it foreign to her own ears as it sounded so small and broken. “Where are my children?”

“We will find them,” she noticed the way his voice almost broke at the last word, but she couldn’t bring herself to focus on the hope of his words, as nothing but desolation filled her. “I promise.”

Daenerys placed the teddy wolf to her chest and hugged it tightly, her purple eyes closing as she could _feel_ her heart shattering to pieces and the sobs that ripped through her throat to come out in broken sounds.

Her little boys… taken away from her.

They were so happy; how the hell did it end like this?


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ho-hey!
> 
> We see part of what happened in this chapter though there are some things that can only be known from the kids' POV and it'll take more for that.
> 
> The bad side of the Targaryen genes show a little bit in Daenerys in this chapter too, you're warned lmao.

Jon walked out of the security room, having seen enough of what the screens showed that the security cameras outside his house recorded. After they’d returned to their house, it’d been Jon’s idea to have hidden cameras on the porch of the house as well as in the entrance of the iron fence around the front yard and in the back of the house; it’d been Benjen’s idea to have monitors in an old guest room that would show live what happened outside, and even record it.

They never had the need to use them – not until now.

Jon started walking down the stairs, trying to hold back the anger shaking him from inside, the uncontrollable need to punch something until his knuckles bled and his fingers broke. He couldn’t believe he allowed this to happen, that he hadn’t seen it coming – how stupid could he be?

Three innocent little kids were paying the consequences of him being naïve enough to be immersed in the happy ending he was living and be blind to what was happening around him.

“Maybe they’re hidden somewhere… maybe they ran away,” he heard Rickon’s hopeful voice whispering against Sansa’s chest; his head moving up slightly to see him walking down the last step. “Right, Jon?”

He had to swallow and break his gaze from him, knowing what he’d just seen didn’t fit with his brother’s theory. His eyes, however, landed on Daenerys’ back covered by her blonde-silver hair; she had yet to move from the seat she’d taken half an hour ago, when the ambulances arrived to check on everyone that had passed out.

Everyone had been drugged with sleeping pills the doctors assumed, though they’d taken at least five persons’ blood to confirm or discard their presumptions, Rickon’s included. Not only the guards were drugged, but his brother and the maids inside the house as well – even Ghost.

The white wolf rested his head at Daenerys’ feet, his red eyes giving him a brief look, showing him the sorrow he felt inside, before they moved down again.

Jon could sense what he felt; powerless… unable to protect the little boys that had brightened their last weeks. He understood the feeling.

He sat next to Daenerys’ side; his heart kept aching for her purple, lost gaze, her hand holding on to her son’s stuffed wolf, her breathing was steady but her chest was moving up and down faster than normal – if it was difficult for him to breathe and keep the calm, he couldn’t imagine what she was going through.

He cleared his throat. “The police are searching in every corner of Winterfell already,” he placed his hand on top of her free one, trying to get some reaction from her, but Daenerys only blinked. “There’s something you need to know…”

“Say it.”

Jon’s eyebrows closed in slightly, seeing the features on her face hardening, a hint of fire crossing over her iris, as if she knew what he was about to tell. He looked around them; Missandei was sitting next to Daenerys, her sobbing had yet to stop, Sansa and Rickon kept standing behind the large couch meanwhile Arya sat on the small one, with Bran by her side. All their eyes were expecting him to continue.

“It’s been confirmed it was Doreah.”

A louder sob was heard from Missandei, but all he could focus his eyes on was Daenerys and the way her fingers clung to Viserion’s teddy wolf until her knuckles turned white, the corner of her mouth turning up if only a bit as she tried to keep the explosion inside.

Missandei shook her head. “It was rare of her to want to be so… helpful, but she said she wanted to make dinner as a sign of gratitude for our time here… she said we would love the warm soup she had prepared for us. And she took the time to fill every one of the plates – for the employers and all of us...”

“I thought it tested a bit weird… but I thought that was how it was supposed to taste,” Rickon made a grimace of disgust before his face fell as he looked up to him. “I caught Rhaegal and Drogon giving their soup to Ghost because they didn’t like soup and they’d like it less coming from Doreah, according to them.”

Jon looked down to his wolf and put a hand on his head, as if that was enough to let him know there was nothing he could do, for he’d taken the blow that was supposed to be for two of the boys and had been drugged instead of them – he didn’t even want to think what Doreah had in store for Ghost if it wasn’t in her plans for him to fall asleep, too.

“How did you confirm it?” Arya asked after being awfully quiet ever since she arrived with their brother and sister. “Was it seen in the cameras?”

Daenerys looked at him then. “What cameras?”

“There are hidden cameras out in the entrance, the porch and in the back… they recorded what happened.”

“I want to see.”

Jon took a breath and gave a squeeze to the hand under his. “I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

Her jaw clenched and a small whisper came from between her gritted teeth. “I. Need. To. See.”

Jon sighed but eventually nodded, knowing she had to see it with her eyes, even if he didn’t want her to go through the pain to see her children being taken, he understood she had the right to watch it.

That was why he found himself staring at the monitors for a second time; two police offers with them as Daenerys stood a step forward, giving her back to him. He swallowed and watched it all over again.

How at 9:53pm the guards, his and Daenerys’, started to hold on to what was nearest to them, feeling too sleepy, before they succumbed into it and fell to the ground. Rickon and Missandei told them that in their case, they felt too tired for long minutes before each one took a respective seat and fell asleep. But the doctors and police suspected that the drugs had to be stronger for the guards.

At 10pm, just twenty minutes before their arrival, Doreah was seen walking out the cabin to enter into his house through the kitchen’s back door. At 10:05pm Doreah was walking back to the cabin as Irri was walking into the house’s front yard, stopping in her tracks for a few seconds to see the guards down and unconscious.

Irri ran off and was seen getting inside the cabin at 10:06pm; minutes passed and the screen marked 10:12pm when a black car stopped in front of the house, two men coming out from it as Doreah walked out from the cabin with an asleep Viserion in her arms.

Daenerys’ shoulders moved up in tension as Jon sighed, wanting to reach out and wrap her in his arms so she wouldn’t watch what was next.

Doreah walked away from the cabin as the two other men dressed in black suits walked towards the backyard; the three of them finding each other in the middle of the path and exchanging a few words before they continued their ways, Doreah hurrying to the car in the street and getting in the backseat with the blonde child.

The two men entered the cabin at 10:13pm as Rhaegal and Drogon’s heads are seen poking out from the cabin’s side; Jon’s heart shrunk to watch again as the two little boys trying to wake Sir Jorah up with no success, before they talked to each other and ran off towards the Stark house.

The two men came out from the cabin just as the boys entered through the kitchen’s back door, meaning they saw them getting in and followed them. He felt a lump in his throat to imagine the kids trying to seek help in Rickon or Ghost, knowing they were in the house.

The screen marked 10:14pm – the exact time Drogon and Rhaegal called Daenerys on the phone. It was almost 10:15pm when the men were seen leaving his house, Rhaegal and Drogon in their respective arms, unconscious, before they got into the black car and drove away as fast as they could.

The screen showed 10:20pm when Jon and Daenerys arrived at the house.

Five minutes; they were five minutes late. Had they gotten there earlier, things would have been different. But for five minutes… his hands closed into fists, trying to contain the anger and hate that grew inside him to watch these images again.

There was a chilling silence in the room for long minutes. Jon didn’t know how Daenerys would react; if she’d finally snap out of her trance and break down in tears or destroy everything that was around her. Either way, Jon wanted her to let it out so she wouldn’t have to deal with her pain alone and held it back in the inside.

She turned around, purple eyes filled with a coldness he’d never seen before in them, not even when they first met, and boring into his as she parted her lips, a calm but dangerous voice coming out from them;

“We are going to go to King’s Landing. Now.”

**I**

Daenerys stared out the window, her eyes glancing over the watch around her wrist to see what hour it was; 3 in the morning. She sighed and rested her head against the seat, closing her eyes to scan over what the exact plan was going to be;

They were going to meet with Olenna Tyrell, Westeros’ first minister and all the security she could provide, at 6am before going to Cersei Lannister’s house. She’d met Miss. Tyrell and her granddaughter when she first arrived to Westeros, and knowing she was there to take Cersei out of the power in her Company, they reached out to her to let her know they’d stand on her side.

Margaery Tyrell was the one involved in her trial against Cersei, not her grandmother, given she was the country’s first minister, she thought fit to stay out of that trial and would only show her public hatred against Cersei once the trial was done and she was out of the Company with no corruption system to protect her. Her granddaughter was enough for Daenerys in the trial; Margaery had lived with the Lannisters for a few months when she was Tommen Baratheon’s girlfriend and she could provide information about the corruptions inside the Company that Cersei managed at that moment.

The two Tyrell women were convinced that the Lannisters did something to Loras Tyrell, who it was known between a few people had an affair with Lancel Lannister, but the former had been alive and well in the past months, meanwhile Miss. Tyrell’s grandson had never been seen again. They didn’t have proof to blame Cersei but they were certain that once she was out of her throne in the Seven Kingdoms, no one would dare to keep working for her and would start talking about her dirty matters.

She was grateful that Olenna Tyrell herself would be there to inspect that the police would do their job as it had to be done and search every corner of the Lannisters house; it was quick for Tyrion to get a search warrant for his sister’s house and the Company, given that Euron Greyjoy had been in Winterfell on her behalf just a day before and that their trial was well known in the country and everyone knew of their enmity. Even though the search warrant was going to arrive as soon as Olenna Tyrell did.

But Daenerys knew that Cersei was too smart for that; she wouldn’t have her children in her own home, but there was the chance of something being there that could directly involve her with their kidnapping.

Cersei was good at getting away with her crimes, but this was not going to be the case, not when her little boys were in the middle of it. The need to see her screaming between flames was increasing with each hour that passed and she didn’t have her babies with her; she didn’t want to imagine what they were going through right now. Alone, scared, with no idea of what was happening.

She should have known better than to let her walls down and lose herself in the dream she was living with the Starks; it was her fault. She wasn’t alert as she’d always been with them, she should have paid attention to her dream, she should have stayed with them, she –

“Dany,” Jon’s voice whispered next to her.

It surprised her to know he was awake as well, since everyone in the plane was sleeping, including his sisters a few seats from them; it’d taken them an hour to get the last tickets for the upcoming flight that was going from Winterfell to King’s Landing, and another hour to wait for it. There were only four free seats; one for Daenerys, one for Jon, and she would have taken Jorah and Missandei with her, but the Stark girls were insistent in wanting to go with them.

It shocked that Sansa wanted to come, for she’d never set a foot on King’s Landing ever since she managed to escape from the hell of it, but she knew Cersei and she could try to find what game she was playing if she was present in the meeting Daenerys was going to have with her.

Arya said she’d wandered around secret places inside the Seven Kingdoms Company when her father would take her with him but would be off to work. There were rooms under the building’s basement that no one knew about; she could easily lead the police to it.

The Lannisters house was first, the Company was second.

“… hey,” she blinked to feel Jon’s soft finger under her chin, her eyes finding his dark ones and seeing how tired and sorrowful they looked, dark circles under them starting to form. “You should get some sleep before we get there. You need it.”

She couldn’t help the scowl on her face or her head moving away from his touch to hear that was what she needed because it wasn’t true. “What I need, is my children with me,” she gazed away towards the window once again, watching the blackness of the sky and wondering if her children were asleep or with their eyes wide open staring up. “I can’t rest until that.”

There was a moment of silence before she heard Jon clearing his throat next to her, felt him shifting on his seat. “I understand.”

Her bitter tongue was working faster than what her mind could register. “No you don’t.”

“What?”

Daenerys shook her head and unbuckled her seat belt. “I need to go to the toilet.”

“Daenerys –”

Daenerys didn’t even look at him as she passed past him and hurried her walk towards the toilet’s door. Once inside, she rested her back on it and let out a deep breath, her head moving to the side to see her own reflection in the mirror.

She was mad at Cersei, at Doreah, at Euron, at herself, at the whole situation… and at him.

Her children being kidnapped, her friend’s death, her other friend’s betrayal; her mind was going through the three things over and over again, thinking of the way she could have prevented them from happening, but she’d been too stupidly happy with Jon.

She could have been there and things wouldn’t be the same, maybe she could have stopped Doreah from killing Irri, could have talked her out of the madness she was getting herself into, but she was at the reunion by Jon’s side.

She should have seen Doreah’s betrayal coming; Irri’s last words to her kept haunting her.

_“There’s something I need to talk to you about tomorrow morning, Khaleesi. About Doreah.”_

_“About the fight you two had?”_

_“Sort of. But it can wait; your first reunion in Winterfell can’t, can it?”_

The wrong guy that Missandei told her Irri and Doreah were fighting over; it had to be Euron Greyjoy. He’d been seen leaving Winterfell the morning after that night… if she’d dug into her friends’ argument like she’d done many times before, Irri would have told her what was happening. But she dismissed it, so she could focus on her morning with Jon.

Where Doreah’s betrayal came from? Did she hate her this much all these years? Drogon and Rhaegal had never truly liked her… there had been something wrong, and she refused to see it. Did her relationship with Jon push her to the edge of it? To the point of taking what she loved most from her…

No.

Daenerys shook her head, turning the water on and washing her hands under them – it wasn’t Jon’s fault… it was hers. It was easy to get mad at Jon, who had no faults on this; it was her job to protect her children.

And she failed.

She got out of the toilet and walked back to her seat, feeling Jon’s eyes on her as she passed past him to sit down, buckling the seat belt around her waist again. The tension was clear between them, and before he could say it, she turned to him and swallowed.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. I’m just…”

“I know,” he interrupted her in a gentle voice, his hand reaching out to take hers as his lips turned up in a tiny, weak smile. “I can’t imagine how hard this has to be for you, but you know I’m here.”

His words did nothing but increase the pain inside of her for being mad at him – he didn’t deserve it, yet why did she only gave him a nod and looked away into the window once again instead of kissing him and thanking him?

Daenerys felt his hand slipping away from her seconds later, but all she could do was sigh and kept her purple gaze out into the sky.

**II**

“Before Lady Tyrell gets here,” Tyrion spoke up after the long silence that had filled the room for minutes. “I think we should discuss what we’re going to do in case we find nothing in Cersei’s house or the Company, which is most likely to happen…”

Jon moved his eyes to Daenerys, who kept standing in front of the room’s window, looking out to it and giving her back to them, in silence. Tyrion had been at King’s Landing airport before them and had the rooms of a hotel near it already booked. They were waiting patiently in his and Daenerys’ room for Olenna Tyrell’s arrival since it’d soon be 6 in the morning.

“I already have a plan,” Daenerys’ monotonous voice stated as she turned around, hands folded in front of her, cold eyes piercing into his for a moment before they drifted towards the Lannister man. “If we find nothing, we’ll wait till the night to break in her house to take her and demand her to give me my children back. If she doesn’t cooperate, I will gladly find a way to make her do so. They have my children and we’ll have her. They’ll have to give them back then.”

Jon saw as Arya looked at him, Sansa and Tyrion exchanged looks with raised eyebrows, and Daenerys stared at them all, a cold calmness on her face that Jon knew it wasn’t right. He was starting to believe the pain and anger she felt was overcoming her rational thoughts.

His sisters and the dwarf kept their eyes on him, as if they were waiting for him to take the lead in telling her how wrong she was; they were afraid of their reaction… he couldn’t blame them. Her blank stare was intimidating enough for him.

“I… don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jon was careful to pick his words. “We can’t hurt Cersei until we have the boys back. She could have given the order to… hurt them if something happens to her,” it brought chills to his spine to even imagine the three little boys being punished for it. “We can’t do that. It’s too risky.”

“We have to give her what she wants first,” Tyrion continued for him, taking a low step towards the blonde-silver woman. “Your claim to the Company. Once it’s done and your children are safe back with you, we’ll search for proof that she indeed kidnapped them and we’ll sue her to –”

“No,” Daenerys cut him off. “I won’t wait for this system to be fixed. I will take justice on my hands…” Jon frowned, not liking where this was going. “I will kill her, not before she burns alive, slowly and painfully. For every minute that my sons were away from me, she will suffer.”

Jon stood up from the chair, shaking his head from side to side. “No. That’s not you.”

She arched an eyebrow to him. “That is me… when someone touches my children. The judicial system will do nothing without proof; they won’t even care enough to search for it. I am not letting her get away with it.”

“Daenerys, no.” Jon’s voice was stern as he took a step closer to her, feeling the other three pair of eyes on every one of his moves. “When your children are back with you, we’ll find a way to deal with Cersei, but that’s not the way. You know it’s not.”

“What are you going to do about it?” His frown only deepened to see such fire in her eyes, for him… a fire filled with anger and hatred that had never been directed to him. “Are you going to stop me from that, too?”

“Too?” He repeated confused. “What are you talking about?”

Arya, Sansa and Tyrion walked past him and soon the door was heard closing behind him. He kept his eyes on Daenerys, watching as hers started to water up.

“This could have been stopped. I could have – I should have seen it coming but I didn’t, because I was too busy being so careless with you!”

Jon wasn’t having any of it. The guilt inside him was enough, for someone had been murdered in his family’s house, three six years old that he adored with his life were taken away in his town, from his house. He was the one that thought that should have been more alert to the signs around, but was too deep into the happiness he felt for her and these kids, but the thought of blaming her for that would have never crossed his mind.

“Are you blaming me for making you happy in the last weeks? Do you even hear yourself?”

“And look where we are for being stupid enough to believe in that happiness!”

“And THAT is my fault?! I understand you’re in pain, Daenerys, I really do but –”

“No, you do not understand!” She cried out, tears starting to paint her pale cheeks. “You can’t understand what kind of pain I am in because I don’t know how or where my children are so stop pretending like you understand!”

“What am I supposed to say to you then?!” He gave no shits anymore to keep his voice quiet and only screamed back at her, jaw tightening and hands closing into a fist from the rage filling him. “I love these children with all my heart, Daenerys, if I could change places with them, I would do it in a heartbeat. You are their mother, but you’re not the only one suffering because of it!” He let out a big, frustrated sigh and shook his head. “I don’t even know how to talk to you anymore.”

He turned around to leave.

“Where are you going?!”

“What do you want me to stay for?!” He looked back at her; the sight of the tears all over her face broke his heart but the anger built up because of her words was bigger than his need to comfort her. “So you can keep blaming it on me like I was the one that gave the order to kidnap them, like I’m Cersei or Euron Greyjoy?!”

He saw the frustration on her features, the way she pursed her lips before she’d spit anger on her words. “But nothing of this would have happened if…”

He arched an eyebrow, deep down knowing what she meant, and held her stare, daring her to go on. “If what?”

“… if I never went to Winterfell,” he tried to keep a straight face, but the pain and fury was too much to hide it from his features. “I should have gone back to Dragonstone like I was planning to do.”

Jon bit his bottom lip and eventually nodded at her. “Yes. You should have.”

He turned around and walked towards the door, the rage was too much he had to let it out somehow, so he punched the wall near the door before he opened it and got out, slamming the door shut behind him and watching as the knuckles that had turned white from closing his hand too tight were staining with blood.

Jon moved back to the room’s door, hands on it, lowering his head with his black curls intervening on his sight, trying to control his heavy breathing.  He had enough of pain with Rhaegal, Viserion and Drogon being kidnapped, to now have Daenerys blaming him and throwing it all on him – he wanted to get back inside to keep screaming at her what the fuck was wrong with her, how she could say such things to him, but even in his rage, he knew that would be of no use.

He wanted to punch the hell out of something.

“Jon,” his sister’s voice brought him back to reality. He moved away from the door and looked down to Arya, who stared from his hands to his face. “Are you okay?”

“No,” it’d be stupid to try to hide it. “I need some air.” She nodded and as he walked past her, she cleared her throat.

“There’s something you need to know.” He sighed and turned back to her. “The police found Doreah and Euron… but the boys are not with them.”

Jon glanced over towards Daenerys’ room’s door for a second before he started walking away, his unharmed hand massaging his bloody knuckles; he was going to punch the hell out of _someone_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's safe to say Daenerys needs to find a good way to work out her feelings when in moments of not knowing what to do, hopefully she will but for now...
> 
> Let me know what you think ;)


	22. Chapter 22

The tension in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Daenerys and Jon wouldn’t speak to each other, wouldn’t look at each other as they sat side by side in the rented car Tyrion had gotten for them. Sansa felt like a child all over again, back when her parents would argue that no one dared to say a word in front of them.

Jon was driving them towards the house the polices had found Euron and Doreah in, Daenerys was on the passenger seat, silent as she’d been for the past hours, and she had her younger sister by her side, who was as clueless as she about what happened between the two lovers.

It’d been Sansa the one that delivered the news to Daenerys; she found Arya in the hallway of the hotel room after walking past a very much angry Jon, not knowing how to say it to the Targaryen woman since she’d just had a fight with their brother.

Sansa took it upon herself to get inside the room and tell Daenerys; but what she’d found inside was a broken young woman instead, sitting on the floor, with big tears running down her face and uncontrollable sobs coming out from her mouth that even made her difficult to breathe. Daenerys saw her out of the corner of her eye entering the room and watching her like a petrified stone, but that didn’t slow down her weeping… which meant the pain had to be big enough for her not to care to show others how vulnerable she was.

Sansa had considered running back to get Jon, but she remembered the darkness in his eyes, the red on his knuckles and his fast breathing as he made his way towards the hotel’s exit. He needed time alone to cool down; he wasn’t an option right then.

So she did what she thought was right.

She’d walked over to Daenerys and sat next to her, trying her best to wrap an arm around and put her shoulder for her face. Shockingly for her, the Targaryen woman held on to her and kept letting out the pain inside.

Sansa had wondered before how much time Daenerys was going to be able to hold her feelings inside, keeping an emotionless stare and cold voice ever since she’d arrived to her house to find the mess that had happened.

She hadn’t said a word to Daenerys, letting her paint her grey fluffy coat with her tears, placing a hand on her back to try to show her support. It angered her to know that her three little kids were thrown into Cersei Lannister’s hands; they were such innocent, sweet angels, they didn’t deserve that and she hoped that the lion woman would be much kinder than what she was with her. These kids had grown in her heart and they’d become worthy enough to overcome her fear from coming back to King’s Landing after everything she’d suffered in here.

But it broke her heart to see and hear Daenerys’ pain; she was a strong, powerful woman whose weakness had been touched. Even if Sansa didn’t like her at first, she’d always admired her cunning side, her desire to take back what was hers, no matter who was on the other side. She’d liked her even more when she showed her she wasn’t the selfish and manipulative woman she thought her to be, speaking of wanting to change the rules inside the Company once she took it back, seeing how much she cared for her brother and how loyal she’d been to him and his people.

It’d taken a few minutes for Daenerys’ sobs to cease, her bloodshot purple eyes looking up at her with embarrassment in them, but Sansa only gave her a small and sincere smile. She may have been Jon’s girlfriend for mere weeks for now, but you had to be a fool to think she wouldn’t be more than that in the future; Daenerys was going to be her family one day –if she wasn’t already– and it was time to start acting towards her like it.

They didn’t need to say a word to each other as Sansa helped her get up and compose herself. Her first instinct had been to look around and ask about Jon, but the Stark told her he was out… and about Doreah and Euron Greyjoy.

Sansa had thought Daenerys was going to apologize to Jon when they reached him, but they didn’t say a thing to each other as they got into the car. Arya arched an eyebrow to her and shrugged before both of them followed them into it.

She didn’t know what could have gotten Jon so mad to the point he punched a wall and what could have happened that triggered Daenerys to break down like that, but she couldn’t blame them. If she was nervous for what could happen to the kidnapped kids, she couldn’t imagine them what was going on for them. Daenerys was their mother, and she’d seen the way Jon interacted and looked at these children, he loved them with all his heart and a hell must have going through his mind, too.

The car stopped as Sansa’s eyes moved to a house that looked abandoned, just a bit into the woods. It was placed at the edge of the city, almost reaching Rosby; she wondered if they even tried to hide themselves or this part of Cersei’s twisted plan, somehow.

Three police cars were in front of the house already; three officers standing at the entrance, behind Olenna Tyrell that was patiently waiting for them, hands folded in front of her and looking regal as ever. Daenerys was the first one to get out of the car and walk towards her, the red-headed girl following right behind.

“… I’m so sorry for everything that’s happening, my dear,” she heard the old woman saying to Daenerys once she was close enough. Her eyes settled on her as her lips parted in a light surprise. “Sansa. I am glad to see you are well.”

Petyr Baelish helped her escape from King Landing’s into her aunt’s home, but she’d learn later that Olenna Tyrell had a hand into it, too. She’d been one of the sweet persons Sansa had met in her stay with the Lannisters, along with her granddaughter. Miss. Tyrell was cunning and thirsty for power, but not in the Cersei Lannister way – she still kept her sanity and most of her goodness.

“Thank you. It’s good to see you again, though the circumstances are horrible.”

Tyrion’s car stopped behind them and they waited for him before entering the house, Daenerys at the front with Olenna as the older woman explained to her that she wanted to keep this arrest as discreet as possible, given they didn’t know if it was in Cersei’s plan for Euron to get caught this fast, but she had her contacts that searched very quickly for his whereabouts.

Euron and Doreah were sitting at the edge of a bed in a large bedroom, hands cuffed; the sheets were unmade and their hairs looked messy. Once all six of them were inside, Olenna gave a brief nod to the police officers and it didn’t take long for them to leave them alone, only one of them staying inside and close to the door.

Sansa looked at Jon, hoping he would contain himself and not do something stupid – but he had _that_ look on his face, the one that she’d only seen on him before when he managed to get his hands on Ramsay Bolton; lips tightly pursed in anger, hands clenched into fists, eyes darker than usual and fixed on the Greyjoy man.

“Khaleesi please forgive me,” Doreah stood from the bed and walked a step towards Daenerys, but Jon took a step forward, which made the brunette stay in place. “He said it’d be only for a few days and that they would be fine, that nothing would happen to them.”

Daenerys kept a blank face to the big and fake tears that appeared on her former friend’s face as her cold voice was back when she whispered, “Tell me where they are.”

“I don’t know… I left them with the other men in Barrowton, they were going to take a plane to here but that’s all I know, please Khaleesi, forgive me; he said they’d be okay and that I’d get a luxury life after you were gone back to Russia. I didn’t mean to –”

“To betray me? To betray my children? To murder Irri in cold blood?” Sansa saw her jaw tightening as she took a moment to take a breath and kept the composure, holding her chin up to the other woman. “There’s nothing to forgive, because what you did is unforgivable.”

Doreah looked at her all but shocked, until the wailing was gone as fury and indignation managed to break in through her features. “You can’t throw me away. I know _too much_ of you,” she dared to say, so proud of it.

Daenerys took several steps forward, stopping to stand inches away from the brunette. Sansa couldn’t see her face, but she still heard her dangerous and clear whisper. “You _do_ know too much of me, and therefore, you know I can let this one betrayal pass, to let you be judged as you have to be, but that I never let people betray me twice. Isn’t that right?”

Doreah didn’t answer back, only stared at her with burning eyes and a sealed mouth. Daenerys turned around and walked back next to Jon, locking eyes with the Tyrell woman for a few seconds before focusing back on the pair in front of her.

Olenna mentioned to the police officer left to take Doreah. “I spoke to the chief; she’s going back to Winterfell, where she is going to be judged by her crimes, given she’s done them there.”

“Good,” Arya was fast to say, with her glare on Doreah. “The Northerners prisoners love foreign people that betray someone in the North and take children away from their homes. You’ll enjoy it.”

Doreah was dragged away from the room, gaze focused on the Targaryen all the way. A humorless chuckle was heard in the place once the door closed behind them, all of them looking back to the only man sitting on the bed, creepy smirk breaking in on his face.

“I needed someone from the inside to get it done and she needed only a few sweet and stupid words for her to fall for it… I’ve never seen someone so eager to betray a friend like that,” his blue eyes looked up and down to Daenerys as he faked to be concerned. “You look terrible, sweetheart. Look at your pretty eyes… swollen, bloodshot, tired. It must be hard for you… to be the dog in this whole situation; the dog that is going to have to beg on the floor to have what you want back. Isn’t it?”

Daenerys didn’t even blink, only kept glaring down at the pathetic man a few meters from her. Tyrion took a step forward, closer to him. “You should tell us where they are, get this over with. You might get less years if you cooperate.”

“Years?” Euron laughed, shaking his head. “We all know that I’m not going to be serving any years once all this is done.”

“So you admit it?” Olenna tried to push it. “You admit you’re with Cersei Lannister and she will get you out of all of this once it’s done.”

The man shrugged. “I never said her name.”

“Shows who the dog still is,” Daenerys spoke up as his smirk slowly faded, watching her walking slow steps towards him. “You’ll take all the responsibility of it… for her. You won’t say her name. I know no one follows your orders; my children are not on your hands, but know this: if something happens to them, if anyone dares to touch a single hair of their heads, your skin will be the first one to fall out from your bones when I throw you into the flames,” her words weren’t directly to her, but it made Sansa swallow nonetheless, and it had a worse effect on Euron, a sparkle of fear crossing his blue eyes for a short moment. “So I suggest you reconsider your choices… and start talking.”

When Sansa thought that Daenerys’ threat had worked on the man, his lips turned up if only slightly. “And how do you know nothing happened to them yet?” She could barely see the silver woman’s profile, but it was enough for her to catch a glimpse of fire in her purple eyes. “What did he say he wanted?” Euron mocked confusion. “Grey Wind,” his smirk widened to the side. “He was crying for his little wolf, Grey Wind.”

 _Viserion_.

Sansa saw Daenerys moving her hand up, ready to slap the shit out of his face, but Jon was ahead of her, lifting him up from the bed by taking his shirt with both hands and crashing his back against the nearest wall, the mirror hanging from it breaking behind him.

“WHERE ARE THEY?!”

Euron only laughed at his face, sending chills through Sansa’s spine, reminding her of the way Ramsay would mock her. His laugh didn’t last as Jon punched him on the face once, and twice, and third, and fourth…

He fell to the floor, but her brother kept punching him over and over again, blood was starting to spread from his face to the floor; Sansa looked up desperately to Daenerys, waiting for her to stop this – but she kept an indifferent stare on the two men. She knew Euron deserved every one of the hits, but if he died, it would be Jon the one to pay for his death.

“Jon, stop,” she tried to walk towards him but Arya held her back by taking her arm, giving her a shake of head. “Jon, stop! He’s the only one that can still help us get back the kids, you can’t kill him!” He couldn’t kill him because he could get imprisoned because of it, but she knew that wasn’t something that would matter to him at the moment.

That seemed to wake something in Daenerys since she walked closer to them and put a hand on Jon’s shoulder. “Jon,” her mere whisper was enough for him to stop. She couldn’t see if Euron was awake or not given all the blood that was on his face, but she guessed he was unconscious or about to be. “He’s not worthy.”

Jon got off of him and stormed out of the room, not even looking back. Daenerys stared down at the man on the floor for long seconds before she followed him. Arya walked to him and kicked his leg, seeing as he moved his head from one side to the other, barely awake.

“He’ll live… unfortunately.”

“He still has to pay for what’s he’s done,” the old Tyrell said, giving the man a glance before looking up at her. “Your brother’s safe. I haven’t seen anything.”

Sansa thanked her with a small smile before walking out the room, catching a glimpse of Jon’s dark hair and Daenerys’ blonde-silver one in the bathroom of the house before she closed the door behind her. She hoped they’d fix their problems because the last thing they needed was for their families to be torn apart from the inside.

That was exactly what Cersei wanted. They couldn’t give her the satisfaction.

**I**

Jon didn’t move his eyes off of his hands under the water as he washed the blood off; he’d contained himself ever since he put a foot on the room and saw Euron’s face, knowing he shouldn’t lose control, for the sake of the kids – but hearing him saying Viserion’s stuffed wolf’s name clicked something inside him. That wasn’t something he could know hadn’t Viserion told him himself; he must have asked for his mama, for him, for his little wolf, and knowing the little blonde child, he had to be scared to death for being away from his mother, in an unknown place.

Euron deserved to bleed more, deserved to have his face opened apart with his punches, but Daenerys’ voice stopped him. He thought he heard someone else’s voice before hers, Sansa’s he believed, given that Arya wouldn’t have tried to stop him… but he didn’t want to stop, he couldn’t – his need to beat the life out of him was bigger than anything else.

Except for Daenerys.

But he was still mad at her. Once he got out of the room, he looked for the house’s bathroom and walked inside; wanting to take off of his skin the blood of that trash that couldn’t even be called a man. But Daenerys had entered behind him and closed the door as he turned on the water.

She must have regretted her words… but she truly had the temper of a dragon; she could mask it as much as she wanted, but her impulsiveness would always come to surface. Even if she always managed to get it back together, the harm was already done.

He didn’t miss her bloodshot eyes after their fight, showing how much she’d cried for it… for everything. It’d almost made him want to talk to her… _almost_.

“Thank you. My slap wouldn’t have been enough.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” he replied coldly. “I wanted to do it for a long time.”

Daenerys didn’t say anything else as he turned off the water and looked up at her, not because he wanted to keep going with this conversation, but because he wanted out and she was in the middle of his way. She must have read the disinterest and anger still hanging in his dark eyes, for she swallowed and tore her gaze away.

“I –”

“I don’t want to hear it, Daenerys.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m trying to apologize.”

“Yes, after you said fucked up things to me. You’ve done this before; you let it out on me and then you apologize, acting like nothing happened. I don’t have time for this now.”

He tried to walk around her to get to the door, but she wasn’t having it, putting her hands on his shoulders and standing right in front of him, frustration twinkling in her eyes.

“You don’t have time for this? I’m sorry, Jon, I know what I said was so wrong and –”

“Good to know you realized I wasn’t the villain here.”

Daenerys stared him for long seconds, long enough to frustrate him more for her not saying anything, before she bit her bottom lip, shook her hand and moved her hands up in irritation, turning around to leave.

“You’re being childish.”

“Childish?” He couldn’t believe her, but she wasn’t going to have the last word, so he took her arm with one hand whilst the other pushed back closed the door that she was starting to open.  “You are the one that practically says you regret our relationship and I am the one childish for being mad at you?”

Her eyes felt like daggers boring into his. “You are childish because you’re staying with the words I said in a moment of distress that I did not mean, you won’t let me explain –”

“So every time you hurt me I’m expected to suddenly forgive you and act like everything’s okay because you realized how wrong you were and that you didn’t mean them? It doesn’t work like that, Daenerys.”

Jon knew he’d never this harsh with her, ever. He didn’t know if it was because of the angry remains from their fight earlier, or because the three little boys still weren’t back with them, or because he was so tired his eyes would fall close at any moment if it wasn’t for the worry and alarm keeping them open. Or because he couldn’t keep letting it all out on Euron Greyjoy’s face.

“I told you I am sorry, if you don’t want to hear anything else, that’s up to you.”

“If that’s enough to clear your conscience.”

He saw the way she gritted her teeth and a hint of pain flashed through her stare before the blank mask she’d been holding on for the past hours was back on. She roughly moved his arm away from her and the door and opened it to walk out.

Jon let out the long, frustrated sigh that he had inside and moved his head to the side for a moment, watching his reflection through the mirror in front of him.

_“So you promise you won’t make my mama sad? A promise can’t be broken,”_

_“I promise.”_

“Is this really the time for it, Jon?” Arya stood on the doorway, arms crossed over chest, eyebrow arched up. “For your first big fight with your girlfriend in this shitty situation.”

“Arya, I’m not in the mood.”

“Yeah, no one is in the mood. You and Daenerys can’t be fighting each other, not right now, you need to calm down.”

He frowned, confused and upset that she’d even bother to step in this matter. “You don’t even know what happened so please, stay out of it.”

Arya rolled her eyes. “I don’t need to know what happened to know that whatever it was, you have to suck it up and ignore it until we find the boys.”

“Ignore it? Should I ignore she basically blamed me for her children being taken away because I distracted her too much?”

His sister was surprised at his words, but the scowl was kept between her dark eyebrows, eyeing him carefully before she sighed.

“Then don’t make it worse.” Her voice wasn’t as demanding as before, but the hardness wasn’t gone. “I’m not trying to defend her, but it’s clear Daenerys is losing her shit with her kids gone; she shouldn’t have said that, she’s probably regretting it now, but don’t forget what really matters here.”

Jon felt almost insulted that she’d insinuate he forgot about the three kids when they were all he could think of. “I don’t.”

The teenager girl watched him for a moment before she gave him a short nod of head. “Good. Because we have to stick together. That’s the only way.”

Jon wanted to argue with that, but he knew she was right. It didn’t matter what happened to him, it didn’t matter what happened to Daenerys, not at the moment; what truly mattered were Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion, that was it. He had to push back his anger and put all his energy into finding them; he just hoped Daenerys would be able to see it as well.

**II**

“Are you okay?”

Daenerys turned around to find Sansa, studying her with careful eyes, as if she was about to explode at any moment. Truth was, she could have – the emotions were still growling boiling inside her, but the breakdown she’d had in the hotel room was enough for now. She couldn’t keep it together; right after Jon had crossed the door in a rage she’d never seen him in, she collapsed.

She’d been too stupid to say that to Jon; he didn’t deserve it. It wasn’t his fault, if anything it was hers. The rational side of her was fighting for her to shut her mouth about it because it wasn’t right and the emotional one wanted to let out her anger on something – or someone, and Jon had been the one to stand up to her back then when she manifested out loud her thirst for revenge.

But Jon was right. She hurt him; he wasn’t to blame and yet she took it all upon him. She didn’t truly mean them, but she’d hurt him nonetheless. He’d been the only to stay by her side ever since they arrived to the cabin to find her boys were gone; he hadn’t eaten or slept, just like her.

Her mind was growing insane with each hour that her children weren’t back with her. She feared that this would be the moment to lose her sanity and become the mad Targaryen she’d never wanted to be.

But what scared her most, besides the fact that her babies were away from her, alone and unprotected, was that she’d pushed Jon too far and he wasn’t going to come back from it. That this would show him what a horrible person she was inside, because it was true.

She was a horrible person; she couldn’t take properly care of her children, protect them like she should, she’d been too cruel to the man that loved her and her children so much he was bearing up with all this.

“Daenerys?”

Dany blinked and came back from her thoughts, seeing the concerned look on the redhead girl in front of her. “I’m fine.”

Sansa sighed. “Okay,” she didn’t buy her lie, no one could, but Daenerys was glad that she wouldn’t push it. She’d seen her in such vulnerable state before that it made it difficult for her to hold her gaze too much, but surprisingly enough, she trusted the Stark to keep that secret. “Jon will come around. He just needs time.”

She swallowed and folded her arms. “He has his reasons to not.”

“He will. I’ve never seen him so happy like when he was with you and your children. He truly loves you.” Daenerys gave her a small smile of gratitude for her encouragement words, but it only made the ache in her heart grow. She shouldn’t have treated him so harshly… she never learned. “There’s something I would like to tell you before we meet Cersei. You can’t show her you’re… distanced from Jon. She’ll feed from it to drive you mad.”

She nodded firmly. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

“And whatever you do, don’t let her words get to you. She’ll play this… twisted, cruel game and might say things that can make you lose your temper. Don’t. That’s exactly what she wants… just for the fun of it.”

Daenerys didn’t know Cersei in person; she had never spoken to her, not even a word. It’d always been Tyrion and her lawyer the ones that would get things done; they’d never faced each other. But she wasn’t naïve… she knew Cersei would play innocent and still manage to talk about her children somehow, so she’d have to keep her best mask on.

“I understand. Thank you, Sansa.”

Sansa gave her a nod and a sweet small smile before turning around to hear the steps coming closer to them. Jon and Arya; he didn’t look to be as tense as before and for a moment Daenerys thought he was going to talk to her, his lips slightly parting as if he were to speak, with his eyes fixed on her, but he said nothing.

Arya was the one that cleared her throat, eyes drifting back and forth between them. “Should we get going?”

Daenerys nodded as did Jon, but she turned and walked around the car to get to the passenger seat. She’d hold on to believe in Sansa’s words, even if Jon had every right to stay away from her, she had her mind focused on what was most important: getting her children back.

But before that, she’d have to meet with their kidnapper.

**III**

“Heeeeeeeey. We are booored! Giant Man, are you there?! This stupid TV only plays two channels, we want to watch more!”

“Don’t scream like that! You’re going to make the Giant Man mad. We can wait for Mr. J to come back and ask him to look for more channels.”

“This is annoying. I hate this stupid place.”

“Me too. I miss mama. And Jon.”

“We have to do something. Right?”

Rhaegal kept his green eyes on the flames, sitting in front of the fireplace, concentrating on its orange color and the sparks jumping from it. Mama had always says fire was dangerous, but fire was a Targaryen thing; mama loved fire as much as they loved it. He was proud to know that they were the only ones that could resist it as it burned and hurt others, but it never did anything to them – it only tickled as if the flames danced on his skin whenever he touched it.

But most importantly; fire reminded him of his mama.

His hand reached out to the fire, his fingers slightly feeling its warmth as they got closer, before Drogon’s scream startled him.

“Rhaegal! Are you listening to me?!”

He turned around and watched his brother sitting on the edge of the only bed in the room, Viserion sitting right behind him, back on the wall.

“We have to do something to get out of here.”

“We can’t get out of here,” he frowned and looked back at the fire in front of him. “We have to wait for mama and Jon to come get us.”

“Are you serious? We can’t keep waiting. We have to go home.”

Rhaegal rolled his eyes and shook his head. “We can’t. Didn’t you see the Giant Man? Maybe there are more Giants Mans out there.”

“We’ll never find out if we don’t try. Come on, Rhaegal! We have to make a mission!”

The bronze haired child ignored his brother, knowing he wasn’t listening to him – they couldn’t escape from there; there was no way to make a mission out of this. They should have run away when they could, but they weren’t going to leave Viserion behind.

“Are you really giving up? We’re _dragons_ ,” Drogon walked over to him and sat next to him, eyeing him for a moment before shaking his head. “We don’t give up; we have to fight back. We have to find mama and Jon.”

Viserion jumped off of the bed. “You don’t think they’re trying to find us?”

“Of course they are,” Drogon answered him as the blonde boy sat on his other side. “But grown-ups are so complicated. We’ll find them first.”

Rhaegal felt Viserion’s fear before he even said it. “What if we never find them? What if we don’t see them again?”

He had thought about it before and it made him want to cry, but he didn’t because Viserion was already crying back then and they had to comfort him. He looked at his older brother, seeing a bit of fear in his orange eyes before he frowned and shook his head determined.

“That won’t happen. We will find them. But we have to make plans first.”

Rhaegal sighed. “How are you so sure we’re going to find them?”

“Because we never fail missions. Ever.”

 “An important mission has to have a name,” Viserion reminded them, finger on chin. “What is this mission’s name?”

Rhaegal looked back at the flames and smiled lightly, thinking of a name, but Drogon said the word that had come up to his mind instead. “Home. It’ll be the Home mission.”

There was a moment of silence before Viserion squealed in happiness and put one of his hands in the center; he was always the first one to get scared and cry, but he was also the first one to get involved in missions, no matter how big or complicated it would be.

“I’m in!”

Drogon immediately put his hand above their brother’s as they both looked up at him, waiting for him to do the same. Rhaegal sighed, deep down knowing his brother was right; they couldn’t give up, they had to fight back and show the bad guys they couldn’t keep them away from their family.

And it was true that they’d never failed a mission before; this couldn’t be the first time. Much less if the mission had a name.

 He put his hand on top of Drogon’s and nodded firmly. “I’m in.”

They were going to find their mama and Jon. The Home mission was on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bad news: dany and jon are both hot tempered.
> 
> good news: the boys' povs are coming back next chapter for all of you wondering what happened back then and how they are! aaaand dany and jon have decided to chill for now.
> 
> i know it must feel strange to not have the fluffy chapters we were used to but this has been in my mind since the beginnings of the story and it's going to pass that i promise!
> 
> thank you all for reading. see you soon!


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> Just to clarify things before you start reading; one or two hours pass between the two scenes of this chapter, just so you don't think the second one happens right after the first one because that wouldn't make sense but I had no way to say that in the story since the kids don't know anything about what's going on outside.
> 
> And things are coming around! I know you all want this to be over with but hold on with me for a lil longer, that's not how kidnappings work (???) ~~-as if I knew something about that but you get me right?-~~
> 
> Enjoy and let me know what you think! :)

“Daenerys Targaryen. It was time for us to meet.”

“I agree.”

Daenerys’ blood boiled in the presence of this cynical woman, trying to look as superior as possible with the smug grin draw on face, one hand raised with fingers holding on to a cup of wine, sitting behind her desk and not showing any attempt to rise from it. That would be for the best though; the farer away, the better.

She glanced over her shoulder to hear the sounds coming from outside; more than fifteen polices officers were searching inside and out the big Lannister house meanwhile they stayed in Cersei’s office. 

“I, for once, don’t agree with this search warrant,” Cersei placed the paper she’d been given before they entered in the house. “I think it’s ridiculous to question my innocence on this. I have never left King's Landing.”

“Your employee did,” Daenerys had to bite her tongue to stop herself from calling him her dog. “He’s confessed he kidnapped my children. He was in the North because of you.”

Cersei shrugged, her grin only growing. “Because I wanted him to make a deal with Benjen Stark to reincorporate Winterfell into the Company. Since when is that a crime?”

Dany’s jaw tensed as she looked to her right, finding Jon’s eyes staring back at her with the same darkness that she was sure her purple ones reflected. Arya stood by his side, pursing her lips to not growl at Cersei, and Sansa by hers, giving her a look to remind her of what they talked about earlier.

It was only them and Cersei in the room; Tyrion and Olenna were out with the officers to verify that they were doing their job properly and because they didn’t want to cross paths with Cersei and make things worse. She didn’t want any officer inside the room, so they could get the chance to at least speak about what Cersei wanted for her children’s freedom.

Daenerys gave a glance to the Starks surrounding her before focusing back on the Lannister woman. “Do you happen to know anything about Euron’s plans?”

“I’m afraid not. If I did, I would help you right away. I know what it’s like to have your children ripped away from you. You must be living a hell. Poor thing.”

How dare she–

“If you know what it’s like, then perhaps you could help us,” Jon intervened before the word _hypocrite_ could leave her mouth. “Talk to Euron, convince him that this isn’t going to get him anywhere.”

“Is it not?” the blonde woman titled her head to him. “I’m sure if Euron did this, is because he wants something in return.”

Sansa stepped forward. “Since you can imagine what Daenerys is going through, what would _you_ do in her position?”

Cersei narrowed her eyes at the girl as her lips curved to the side. “How would be that of use, Little Bird?”

Daenerys frowned slightly to the nickname, but Sansa didn’t even blink, kept her chin up and the ice in her eyes. “You are the only one that can imagine what it’s like to lose your children… even if it’s different for her. If you’re innocent like you claim to be, why not help her with a mere advice?”

Cersei seemed to consider her words as she looked back at her and kept her green eyes on her, as if she were studying her and deciding whether she was worthy of her advice, even though it wouldn’t be an advice at all; Sansa was smart and knew how to play with the Lannister woman. Cersei would be telling her what Daenerys was expected to do in a subtle way.

“If I were you, I’d wait for instructions… and not do something foolish.”

“Foolish?” she repeated, eyebrow arching to her way. “They’re my children, three six years old that need their mother. If I do something foolish, is because I don’t know where they are, or how they are –”

“I’m sure they’re fine, I mean… what kind of person hurts children?” the smirk on the older woman’s face put Daenerys’ nerves on fire. “And if Euron is clever, he knows he needs those children and nothing bad can happen to them. That is, if he’s clever.”

She was going to keep her temper, but she was not going to cower with this woman, trying to play good and submissive, when _she_ was the person that knew where her boys were, she knew how they were, if they asked for her, if they were scared, and she’d done nothing but keep them away from her.

“I hope he is,” Daenerys gifted her one of her own cynical smiles. “For his sake.”

Cersei understood her words, for she raised an eyebrow and rose from her chair, placing both hands on the edge of her desk and giving her the most forced, sweet smile she could manage.

“I think our meeting is done here, isn’t it? I even gave you an advice, that I hope you’re wise to take.” Sansa and Arya exchanged looks before turning around and walking to the door. She would have turned around, hadn’t the Lannister spoke again. “Oh. And congratulations on your relationship you two,” she and Jon looked at each other for a moment, making Cersei smirk under her cup of wine. “Or maybe congratulations are not in order.”

How could she notice? She and Jon had done nothing to show that they weren’t on the best terms, they were even standing side by side, not too close, but still. Jon narrowed his eyes at Cersei and walked closer to her, his hand reaching out to take hers and interweave their fingers, giving a firm nod to the woman carefully watching them.

“Thank you.”

Daenerys kept her eyes forward as they made their way out of the room. She thought Jon would let go of her hand once the door closed behind them, but he did nothing of the like and instead kept walking, leading her outside the house, and she did nothing to stop him. Once they reached the car, he pulled away from her and cleared his throat.

“You should go back to the hotel with Tyrion and Sansa and wait for news there.”

Daenerys frowned. “What about you?”

“Arya’s going to the Company with the police to show them the secret passages. I’m going with her.”

“But I can go too –”

“You heard Cersei. She told you to wait for instructions. Wait for that in the hotel. I’m sure she’s going to contact you somehow today.”

Daenerys wanted to protest, to say she wanted to go to the Company and help them, but knew that wasn’t necessary and she didn’t have it in her to fight with Jon anymore. She didn’t want to make things worse… and she knew he had a point. Cersei –most likely one of her pawns– would call her or send her a message to tell her what she wanted; giving up the company was for sure going to be the first condition. Doreah had mentioned that Euron told her she’d get a life of luxuries once she was back in Russia, which meant they planned that too.

Leaving the Company on her hands would be hard for her but she wouldn’t hesitate if it meant getting her boys back. Leaving Westeros, though; her eyes shifted towards Jon, who kept his gaze beyond her shoulder, and she could feel a new hole starting to spread in her heart.

He wouldn’t leave his family behind; he just got his sisters and brothers back. She could imagine him leaving the North to live with her in Dragonstone or King’s Landing, in a future, but the North would be two or three hours away in a plane, it wouldn’t be that far. But leaving the country… that was a whole different story.

She was going to do anything to have her children back, but that would be the one condition that could _truly_ hurt her.

Daenerys swallowed hard and looked down, nodding slightly. “Okay.”

“Hey!” Arya’s voice sounded behind them. Her eyes moved up to find Jon watching her curiously, as if he could sense the discomfort her thoughts had brought upon her. “Mrs. Tyrell said they’d done most of the search here and they’re going to end soon, that we should head towards the Company already. She’s going to leave too.”

“Alright…” Jon nodded at his sister. “It’ll be just you and me. You both will go back with Tyrion to the hotel.”

It didn’t take much for Sansa to nod, for the Seven Kingdoms Company wasn’t a pleasant place for her to be in. Arya didn’t make any comment as she walked around the car to get in, but Jon held his stare on her, as if he was waiting for her to say or do something. He pursed his lips and in the end, gave her a nod before turning around to the car.

She wasn’t alright, he knew that, but she doubted that he knew that it wasn’t just because of her children, or their fight, but because there was a high possibility that their paths would be torn apart and all these dreams that she had for them in the future would be crashed.

Daenerys sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, watching him drive away. She’d have to worry about that later, once Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion were back in her arms.

**I**

“They’ve tried to escape three times by now.”

Rhaegal groaned at the way the Giant Man tossed him forward towards the table a few meters from him. He’d been only a few hours in this place but he hated it already; he was going to try to escape as many times as he wanted, he’d been a bit down before but his brothers were right, they had to find their mama and Jon. He knew they were somewhere trying to get them back, but they weren’t going to sit by and wait for it.

Heroes didn’t do that in movies. Heroes fought.

“You three certainly live up to your reputation,” the voice of a lady said from the seat behind the desk in front of them.

“Who are you?” Drogon demanded next to him, Viserion being sure to be close to them – he was too afraid of everything. Rhaegal was scared sometimes too, but he imitated their older brother’s actions and didn’t show his fear.

The lady from behind the seat played with her chair, going from side to side but not turning around, but he caught a glimpse of her long, blonde hair… not like Viserion’s, it was darker than his brother’s cream one.

“It doesn’t matter who I am. I’ve been called twice to be informed that you tried to escape… on this third one, I thought it’d be fit to meet the so trouble-makers.”

“Trouble-makers?” Rhaegal repeated confused. They weren’t even close to that; they had the Home mission, true, but they were just playing out the basics plans, not the _big_ ones… this lady didn’t know what they could do if they truly wanted to be trouble-makers. “We just want to go home.”

“That’s not possible for now. You’ve been told that.”

“We don’t care,” Drogon talked back, frown forming between his dark eyebrows. “We want to go back to our mama.”

Ever since Irri broke in their room to tell them to pretend they were asleep, they’d wanted their mama. Drogon and Rhaegal had known something was wrong when Viserion wouldn’t wake up, because it was bedtime but they’d promised that they’d play with the lighter Drogon had stolen from Doreah in the night.

_“Viserion, wake up.”_

_“Why isn’t he waking up?”_

_“I don’t know, I am trying to wake him up!”_

_“We should tell Missy.”_

They’d heard noises from the living room so they quickly got into their beds and pretended to be asleep. Drogon had poked under his sheets to see Doreah taking Viserion from his bed and walking out from the room, even if he didn’t wake up. He looked at his brother confused back then, seeing the same expression on his face.

_“Doreah, what are you doing?!”_

_“What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here!”_

_“Where are you taking him? Let go of him! Give him to me!”_

_“Don’t touch him!”_

_“Let go of him!”_

Irri and Doreah were screaming, which made them get up from their beds to try to see what was going on, but Irri ran into their room, very surprised to see them awake. They thought they were going to be in trouble, but she hurried to put Viserion on his bed and knelt down in front of them to whisper words they didn’t quite understand.

_“Listen to me carefully, little dragons, take this and if something happens, you call your mother. You remember how to do that, don’t you?”_

Rhaegal had nodded at her, knowing how phones worked and knowing by heart Irri’s password since she’d always give them her phone to play with when their mama wouldn’t let them use her own. She’d kissed each of their foreheads before walking out the room, closing the door in silence.

But the silence didn’t last. Irri and Doreah kept yelling things they couldn’t really hear because the door was closed.

But suddenly Irri wasn’t heard again and instead there were footsteps coming. Rhaegal and Drogon ran into their beds and hid under the covers, fearing Doreah would catch them awake and listening to her fight with Irri; Doreah was mean to them sometimes, yelled at them and made them eat things they didn’t like. That was why they didn’t eat their soup that night and gave it to Ghost instead, who was happy to help them as he licked the deep of their plates.

Doreah came in their room again and _again_ she went to Viserion’s bed and took him from it; Rhaegal saw from his bed as his brother’s little wolf fell from his hands to the ground, but she didn’t stop to get it and instead walked out the room.

Drogon had a scowl already on face and Rhaegal knew he was about to yell at her where she was taking their brother, for he’d always been the one to talk back to Doreah, but he was fast to place a hand on his mouth.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

They heard the main door being opened and closed, so they took their cue to run out of the room to look for Irri. She was lying down on the ground, with her eyes opened… which was strange, and didn’t wake up when Rhaegal shook her.

_“Irri? Irri wake up! Doreah took Viserion! Wake up!”_

_“Missy is not waking up either!”_

_“But why Irri has her eyes open? She’s awake but she’s not answering!”_

_“… I don’t know.”_

Drogon saw shadows moving outside the cabin, which made him take his brother’s arm and drag him back to their room, locking the door like he’d always wanted to do but never dared to because mama said they shouldn’t lock their door.

_“What do we do?”_

_“Doreah took Viserion for something bad. We can’t let her take him. We have to get him back.”_

_“How?”_

_“Ghost. He has to be in Jon’s house. We have to get him and tell him to get Viserion from her.”_

_“Okay.”_

Both of them worked together to open up the window that was right above Drogon’s bed. They jumped off of it and ran towards the entrance but stopped dead to see two men they didn’t know approaching the cabin; they hid and poked their heads to see them entering.

Rhaegal’s eyes widened to see the Dothraki and Sir Jorah also sleeping on the ground. He ran to him and tried to wake him up, but like the others, he just wouldn’t open his eyes.

_“What if this is like the sleeping curse from the Sleeping Beauty?”_

_“That’s not real… is it?”_

_“… I think these men are here to take us like Doreah took Viserion… we have to get Ghost.”_

Drogon agreed with him in a firm nod and they ran towards the Stark house, getting through the kitchen’s back door to find that place empty. They hurried to the living room to see no one was there; they must have been all asleep but they didn’t have time to look for them when they caught sight of Ghost at the edge of the stairs.

Both boys ran to him and tried to shake him up as Rhaegal was starting to grow desperate that no one could help them, not even Ghost.

_“Ghost, Ghost, are you there? Wake up! We need you, please!”_

_“Bad men are trying to take us, Ghost, wake up!”_

_“He won’t wake up. Everyone’s asleep!”_

_“Mama! We have to call mama.”_

Rhaegal had quickly unlocked Irri’s phone and found his mama’s number, seeing her picture as they waited for her to pick up – he’d jumped startled when he heard the kitchen’s back door being slammed shut.

Their mama answered as they heard the kitchen’s door being opened.

_“Mama!”_

_“Drogon?! What’s happening, where –”_

_“Mama, help!”_

One of the bad men took the phone but his little hands tried to hold on to it in vain, and in the end, he ended the call. They were big and tall; he tried to crawl to his brother’s side but before he could, he saw the other man putting a white napkin on Drogon’s face… his brother tried to resist at first but he suddenly fell asleep.

_“What did you do to him?!”_

His fingers were holding on to Ghost’s paws as he felt a napkin being smashed against his face, he tried to get away from it but the smell was too strong… and then he didn’t remember anything else.

Until he woke up in an ugly and dark room that only had a bed, a TV and a fireplace. He hadn’t recognized the room at all, but at least his brothers were with him and awake. Viserion hugged him tight when he woke up; crying about how he thought he’d never wake up, how scared he was and that he didn’t know where they were.

_“I think we were kidnapped… like in the movies.”_

_“Why?”_

_“I don’t know. I woke up first and you two didn’t wake up. A man came in with a strange mask and told me to stay quiet, I told him I wanted mama and Jon and Grey Wind, but he said I wasn’t going to see them for a while and that I had to be good if I wanted to see them soon.”_

_“Who was he?”_

_“He said I could call him J.”_

Rhaegal had met Mr. J later, he was a tall man that had a golden mask on his face that covered most of it, except for his eyes, which he could see were green, even if it was too dark, but what Rhaegal found most interesting was that he didn’t have one hand. He thought of him as Hook, the villain from Peter Pan, but Mr. J wasn’t as bad as Hook; he brought hot cocoa and cookies to them in the morning and told them over and over again that this would be over soon and that they’d be back with their mama, but what angered Rhaegal was that he never said _when_.

The Giant Man, however, he found to be mean. He barely spoke and when he did, it’d scare Rhaegal a bit, for his voice was scary and deep… and his face wasn’t covered with a mask, but he wished it was, because the scars on it were ugly.

The first time they tried their first plan, it was because of Drogon – he had to pee and whenever they wanted to go to the bathroom, they had to knock on the door and ask. Mr. J took his brother to the bathroom, he tried to run, but the Giant Man caught him and brought him back to the ugly room, that seemed to be the house’s basement. Drogon told them there was a long, dark stair right after the door, that they had to walk up to get to the first floor, that it was a small place that had three doors around; one of the doors was the bathroom, and he didn’t know about the other two.

Viserion was the second one, with his sweetness and ability to get anything he wanted from people; they tried to trick Mr. J by complaining the TV was broken as Viserion nicely asked him if he could repair it. When Mr. J was trying  to see what was wrong with it, Viserion managed to get out of the room through the small space that the door opened left meanwhile he and Drogon distracted Mr. J, but it was useless, for their younger brother had crashed against the Giant Man on his way up and paralyzed.

Mr. J had been very angry with them, but Viserion was too scared he started crying a lot and begged him to not punish them, which gained him a pat on the head from Mr. J, telling him nothing bad would happen to them.

Rhaegal didn’t understand why Mr. J was doing this if he seemed to be good with them, but he didn’t care and tried to escape a third time, faking that he’d choked with the last cookie Mr. J had brought for them.

He’d been too close to getting to the only door that was across from the bathroom and the place he was, when Mr. J took him out of the ugly room to lead him to what seemed to be a small kitchen; he ran away from it and would have gotten to that door if the Giant Man hadn’t entered right through it to see him staring at him.

So here they were. Mr. J told them it was time for them to meet the boss, the one behind all this, because they’d gotten in trouble for trying to escape so much.

“You can’t go back to your mother, as I said, not until she agrees to give me something that is mine.”

Viserion was curious by that, frowning slightly at her. “What is that?”

“My home. She’s trying to take my home from me so I had to take something from her so she would stop that nonsense.”

Rhaegal wrinkled his nose. “Our mama wouldn’t do that. She’s not bad.”

“I hope she takes it from you,” Drogon dared to say as Rhaegal grew his eyes at him, not knowing where his brother could get that courage from… but he understood him. Drogon was always mean, and he was meaner with people that didn’t treat them right. Like this lady… taking them away from their mama. She was evil – an Evil Lady, that was how they were going to call her. “She will get us back and she will take your home anyway because you’re bad, and bad people don’t get good things.”

The Evil Lady was silent for a moment, her hair moving as she shook her head. “You do have the fire, little one.”

“Of course he does,” Rhaegal narrowed his eyes at her. “We are dragons.”

She laughed then and he frowned deeply, not understanding what was so funny. “Very well then. But you’re so little… and my family is known for lions. Who do you think would win in a fight, my dear? A small dragon or a fierce lioness?”

“A dragon is a dragon,” Drogon answered her simply. “When dragons are small, they can still breathe fire and fly high in the sky. Even if they’re little, they can burn the lioness from up above.”

Rhaegal enjoyed the silence coming from the Evil Lady, nodding in agreement with his brother, proud of it. They were little but Missy had told them stories about dragons growing as big as planes; no lioness would be able to top that.

“I spoke to your mother today,” the Evil Lady suddenly said.

Viserion’s golden eyes lit up, a hopeful smile breaking in his face. “Really? What did she say?”

“She wanted me to tell you to be good boys, to not do something foolish in the meantime you are here.”

Rhaegal looked at Drogon, who was suspiciously eying the Evil Lady’s chair. He was as curious as his brother and not as trusting as his other brother, because if she spoke to their mama, why didn’t she come to get them yet? It didn’t make any sense.

“You’re right, Drogon,” the Evil Lady kept on, hand rising with that red liquid that Rhaegal knew happened to be wine. “I might be part of the bad people, but do you know why bad people are called like that?”

The black haired boy’s frown deepened as he crossed his arms over his chest, determined to keep his mouth shut. Viserion looked a bit confused to both of them, not understanding why they weren’t answering, so he titled his head and replied. “Because they do bad things.”

“Exactly, Viserion. And none of you want to find out what bad things I can do, do you?” She already did a bad thing; she took them away from their mama, that was bad enough for them. But something in her voice told Rhaegal he wouldn’t want to find out what more bad things she could do. She scared him more than the Giant Man did. “ _Do you_?”

“No.” Viserion was quick to answer.

“Good, because I wouldn’t want that either. You can go now.”

The Giant Man escorted them back to the ugly room, downstairs. Rhaegal glanced over his shoulder towards the only door that they hadn’t been able to get through before walking down with his brother. Once they were back in the dark room and with the door closed behind them, he dared to speak.

“What do we do now?”

He knew what his brothers felt; Viserion was scared, but Drogon was angry… he could sense his anger, it was similar to the one he had when Doreah screamed at Viserion so bad she made him cry… all because he accidentally slipped her new phone from his hands on top of the stairs and it shattered to pieces when it reached the first floor. It was an accident, but Doreah screamed at him and took him by his arms, shaking him up very hard all the same. No one was home to defend him; mama, Missy and Irri were out for mama’s work.

Rhaegal and Drogon told her they’d tell their mama about it, but she’d laughed at their faces, telling them she wouldn’t believe them, that she’d tell her Viserion did it on purpose and she would be very mad at him. Viserion, too scared of their mama believing her, made them promise not to tell… so they never did.

But only days later, after Doreah had a new phone, it went suddenly missing. Mama asked them if they’d seen it, and Drogon told her that he’d burned it, just like that.

_“You did **what**?”_

_“I threw it into the fireplace and burned it.”_

_“Why did you do that?!”_

_“Because I wanted to.”_

Mama had asked them all sort of questions to try to find out why Drogon did that, but they didn’t say anything and Drogon had been grounded for several days, with no TV, no phones, no tablets, but he didn’t care. Doreah had been furious when she found out, but other than glaring at him, she couldn’t do anything. His brother had waited for the four of them to be alone to confront her about it.

_“I burned it because you were very mean to Viserion. Don’t scream or touch my brothers like that ever again. Or I will burn all your things. I don’t care what my mama says.”_

Doreah never screamed at them again. She’d still be mean sometimes, but she never raised her voice or took them hard from the arm again.

“She threatened us.” Drogon broke the silence, shaking his head slightly. “She can’t do that.”

“But she did,” his blonde brother kept on. “I don’t want to find out what are the other bad things.”

“We won’t.” Rhaegal raised an eyebrow at Drogon, knowing the angry pout on his lips and the scowl between his dark eyebrows didn’t mean they’d behave like the Evil Lady said their mama wanted. He pulled something from the pocket of his jean and opened his palm, showing it to them. His eyes grew big to see Doreah’s lighter; the one he’d stolen the night before. He kept it. “We’re going to do what we do best.”

Rhaegal titled his head confused. “But we already made a mission. We even named it. The Home mission.”

“Yes. And we’re going for the big plan. There’s something we’re better at than making missions; you don’t remember?”

Rhaegal looked at Viserion for help and saw something flickering in his golden eyes, like a spark, before his lips started to grow in a playful smile; his own forming one alike as his green eyes sparkled with excitement when they moved to his other brother again.

Drogon smirked and turned on the lighter in his hand. “We are going to _burn_ things.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _rule n1: you don't upset kids that love to play with fire and are not afraid to use it._
> 
> ~~_dany and jon are getting their shit together once and for all soon, hold on_ ~~


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _i wanted to finish this chapter sooo much that i don't even care it's late here and my eyes are almost close lol._
> 
> _thank you all for your support. hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!_

__Viserion sighed as he sat on the bed and put his chin between his hands, watching his brothers walking back and forth in the room.

“We should burn the whole house.”

“We don’t know if we’re in a house.”

“Where are we going to be, then?”

“No. We should burn this room. Mr. J and the Giant Man will come to get us then.”

“What if they don’t see the smoke and don’t come and get us? We can be waiting the whole day!”

“Of course they’re going to get us! If we knock the door too hard they hear and they come for us to go to the bathroom, how are they not going to see the smoke, _genius_?”

The six year old sighed once more, this time louder, getting his brothers’ attention. Sometimes Drogon and Rhaegal had good ideas, but it was always his job in the missions to make up the big plans.

“You’re both right,” Viserion started once he was sure the other two boys were listening to him, at last. “We have to burn the whole house and this room. We have to burn the kitchen and the bathroom first and then our room. Mr. J and the Giant Man are going to take us through the third door to keep us away from the fire because we’ll pretend that it hurts us. We’re going to escape then. They’ll be too busy trying to turn off the fire to watch us.”

Rhaegal seemed to consider his idea. “And what if there are more Giant Mans out there? What do we do with them?”

He shrugged. “We’ll keep burning things till they’re all trying to turn off the fire. Then we leave.”

Drogon arched an eyebrow. “Just like that?”

Viserion smiled widely. “Just like that,” he narrowed his golden eyes at him, titling his head. “Or is that too hard for you?”

Rhaegal grinned, knowing what his brother was doing; if Drogon wasn’t convinced of his ideas, he’d challenge him – that would always work, and their brother never seemed to notice since he always accepted the challenges.

The black haired boy scoffed. “Of course not.”

“Okay,” Rhaegal nodded, liking that idea. “So I will burn the shower’s curtains, Viserion will burn the kitchen’s table and everything on it and Drogon will burn this bed. Got it?”

“Got it.”

Rhaegal smiled happily and clapped his hands. Mama and Jon would be so proud when they heard of their awesome plan.

“Let’s go!”

After Drogon handed the lighter to Rhaegal and he put it in the back pockets of his jeans, he started hitting the door very hard, screaming Mr. J’s name, waiting for him to answer. It wasn’t long before the tall man crossed through the door, looking down at them suspiciously; they’d tried to escape so many times he didn’t trust them anymore.

“So.” Mr. J said after a moment. “What is it now, kids?”

Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion looked at each other with small and angelical grins.

**I**

Daenerys couldn’t stop pacing back and forth around the room; she was sure she’d stepped on every corner of it by now, but she couldn’t stay still. The police was doing their “job” trying to make Euron talk and finding clues about her children’s whereabouts, but she couldn’t do anything more.

The Lannister house and the Company had been searched and nothing was found.

She’d known that they’d find nothing there, but there was always a bit of hope for it. Now she had to wait for Cersei to try to contact with her.

She was well aware of the three pair of Stark eyes staring at her, watching every one of her movements, but she’d long decided to ignore them. The darkest one, in particular. Even if she didn’t miss his heavy sighs, indicating his annoyance at her not stopping in her steps.

Sansa was the one that cleared her throat before breaking the long silence. “Daenerys… do you want… a glass of water?”

Daenerys stopped walking for first time in what felt like hours, her attention focusing on the only read head in the room. She was watching her with worried and careful blue eyes; she knew she’d have to thank her a lot once all this was over, for the patience the Stark had had with her.

Her purple gaze dared around the room, staying for a few seconds on Jon, sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his legs as he held her stare for a brief moment before she kept looking around, noticing the absence of her friend.

“Where’s Tyrion?”

“He’s downstairs looking for coffee,” Arya answered her, back resting on the wall behind her with arms folded over her chest. “But I don’t think that’s necessary. At least for you.”

Daenerys shrugged. “I’m fine.”

She noticed the way Arya looked at his brother, eyebrows raised from both sides, which made her frown. She was fine, just a bit accelerated, but she had reasons; walking and thinking was all she could do.

Tyrion walked in the room before she could say something about it; there were no coffee in his hands, but a big, brown envelope instead. He walked closer to her and handed it to her, eyes serious as never.

“Someone just left this in the reception. For you.”

Daenerys took it quickly and didn’t waste a second to open it and take the first paper that was inside. She swallowed and concentrated on the words on it;

_“Don’t make any more contact with the police or the Tyrells._

_You’re going to stop the trial to get back the Seven Kingdoms Company. You’re going to give up on your claim of the Company as a Targaryen; there’s a copy of the documents along with this note._

_You’re going to leave Westeros to never come back._

_Winterfell is going to reintegrate into the Company._

_You will not remain in touch with **anyone** from this country._

_If you don’t agree with any of this or try to incriminate me somehow, you will never see them again. If you break any of this agreement in the future, I will find a way to get back to them, that I swear to you._

_I expect you to go to the address written in the other note at 3:30pm. If you don’t show up by that time, I’ll know your answer.”_

“Daenerys?” Jon’s voice asked carefully. “What does it say?”

She cleared her throat and kept her eyes on the paper, not daring to look up. “That I have to give up my claim on the Company… I have to leave Westeros and…” she took a deep breath for her next words. “Winterfell has to reintegrate in the Company and I can’t keep in touch with anyone from here. And if we don’t agree to something of it, I’ll never see them again.”

She moved her eyes up then, right into the ones that she only cared for, seeing they were unreadable; the only thing she found in his dark pools were hardness. She watched him gulping before he gave a firm, short nod.

“Agreed.”

Daenerys’ eyebrows slightly drew in together in a bit of confusion. “You agree to _all of it_?”

Jon pursed his lips tightly. “What choice do we have? It’s that or never seeing the boys again, isn’t it?”

Dany opened her mouth to speak, but found she had nothing to say. Jon was right; they had to agree to all of it, but there was something stirring inside her at him agreeing to all of it – to them never seeing each other again once she left the country.

Her heart was pounding fast inside her chest, it was starting to get difficult to breathe once again and she felt the familiar feeling of aching starting to make its way to her eyes… but she couldn’t lose it. _No_.

“We should leave…” Sansa whispered softly to her sister and the Lannister man.

“No,” Daenerys was proud to hear her voice so firm and cold when everything was starting to fall apart inside her. “You don’t have to leave. Everything’s settled. I am going to meet Cersei at 3:30pm and that’s it.”

“I am going with you.”

She glared at Jon. “You don’t need to.”

His jaw tightened as he narrowed his eyes at her. “I want to.”

Daenerys glanced at the Stark sisters for a moment and decided to focus on them rather than the growing pain inside her. “Thank you. For agreeing to this.”

“We’ll figure something out later,” Sansa reassured her with the ghost of smile. “But we can’t let Cersei tear another family apart. Our uncle will understand that, too.”

_She is tearing another family apart,_ Daenerys thought but decided to keep her mouth shut as she nodded to the young woman. She walked over to the door but was stopped by a hand holding back her arm.

“Where are you going?”

She didn’t look up; she didn’t want to meet his eyes again and see nothing, as if he didn’t care about the consequences of their agreement.

“I need fresh air.”

She didn’t want for his response and got rid of his grip before walking out the room and down the hallway towards the outdoors place that the hotel had. There were many flowers of all colors hanging on the walls and two benches inside; she sat on one of them and clasped her hands together, trying to keep the calm.

Jon didn’t think it twice to accepting Cersei’s conditions, even if he knew what they meant. She didn’t know what to expect; why would he think twice about it if it meant her children’s wellbeing? No, that was something she did too. Even if it meant losing the love of her life, she had to get her boys back.

But he didn’t show any emotions to it. None. He loved her, she knew that… perhaps he was suffering as much as she was and didn’t want to show it. How could she know? He barely spoke to her anymore.

Daenerys was startled to see a figure sitting down next to her. She sighed to see who it was and shook her head.

“I said I needed fresh air.”

“Yes. You didn’t say you wanted to be alone,” Tyrion pointed out with a small shrug. She kept her eyes forward, but could feel his boring into her. “You knew what Cersei was going to ask for.”

“Yes.”

“I’m sure this is difficult for everyone involved but –”

“Is it?” She let out a humorless chuckle with a slight shake of head. “Because it didn’t look like it for everyone.”

Tyrion was silent for a few seconds before his voice was back. “Jon loves you. I know him and in the few hours I’ve seen you two together, and even if you’ve been distanced for most part of it, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I can see how much he worries for your children. This does affect him too.”

Daenerys hesitated for a moment about her next words, because she didn’t know about what way Jon was looking at her in these past hours when all they did was fight. But the more the pain grew, so did the anger, even if she tried to hold herself back from lashing out to people for it.

“He won’t even speak to me.”

The short man next to her sighed. “You have to apologize.”

“I did!” She blurted out, not even surprised that her friend _knew_ that she was the one that should apologize, even if he didn’t know what the fight was about. “But he won’t listen to me. He’s too angry.”

“So I assume you fucked it up pretty bad,” Tyrion raised his eyebrows but Daenerys had to only look at him as an answer. “You have to do more than that. I know your mind is focused on your children, and rightfully so, but you two need each other, so suck up your pride and do something about it.”

Daenerys sighed and moved her gaze forward again; she had a thought that wouldn’t stop eating her alive, even after her fight with Jon. She didn’t have Missandei or Sir Jorah near, or Irri… but she had Tyrion. She needed to hear it from a friend.

“Do you think Cersei had this planned all along? Maybe… maybe if I wasn’t in Winterfell, so carefree, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Maybe,” Tyrion titled his head. “Or maybe not. I think once she realized that she wasn’t going to win this, she came up with this idea, whether you were in Winterfell or Dragonstone, she was going to kidnap the boys to get back at you, because that would be the only way for you to give up the Company. She would have done this if you were in Winterfell, Dragonstone, Rosby or whatever place you were in.”

She let out a long breath. “How could I not see this coming? Cersei is evil and mad; I should have known this was going to happen.”

“But you’re not Cersei,” her friend carefully interrupted her. “You don’t have Cersei’s twisted mind. None of us do… there was no way for you, or anyone in their right mind, to see this coming. What’s done is done. We get your children back, we leave the country if that’s she wants and we make a new plan, not for the Company primarily but for what you’re going to be leaving behind.”

Tyrion reached out and squeezed her forearm to comfort her, which she thanked with a small smile. She stood up, knowing she had to talk to Jon, for Tyrion was right. She had to do more than apologizing and if she was to leave the country and not see him for months – if they were lucky enough to come up with a good new plan to get back at Cersei and come back to Westeros – they couldn’t keep this tense coldness between them.

Daenerys walked out of the outdoors place and headed to the stairs; as she took the first step, she was stopped by a person almost bumping into her. Her purple eyes moved up quickly to find Jon’s grey ones, but they weren’t unreadable anymore, but filled with a known sorrow and guilt.

“I need to –” both of them said in unison.

The two of them fell immediately silent to hear what the other had to say, their lips curving slightly to the side in a shyness that they hadn’t felt since the beginning of their relationship. Daenerys was ready to be the first one to speak, hadn’t a few words caught her attention;

“Did you hear about that old cabin being burned? I heard it on the radio,” an old lady casually said to an old man by her side as they walked down the stairs next to them. “I don’t understand how that could have been burned. It’s in the middle of the woods and it’s been abandoned for years by now. What do you think that it happened?”

She turned around to watch the old couple walk away; Jon walked the last steps of the stairs to stand next to her, a confused frown crossing his features as he kept his eyes on her.

“Daenerys? What is it?”

_“You can’t burn things just because you don't like something, Drogon. That’s bad. Fire is dangerous. You can’t do that.”_

_“Why not?! We are dragons. That’s what dragons do. They attack by burning things!”_

“We have to go.”

“What?”

Daenerys took Jon’s arm and hurried to walk after the old couple.

**II**

“What was your favorite part? Mine was when I set that big couch on fire!”

“Do you think Mr. J is hurt? He was good with us. I don’t want him to be hurt.”

“Pf. He was good to us but he’s still one of the bad guys. He could have taken us back to mama and he didn’t.”

Viserion still hoped that Mr. J wasn’t hurt, but he was happy that their plan had worked. Mr. J had taken Rhaegal to the bathroom, where he left the shower’s curtains burning; Mr. J didn’t have time to notice it since he was taking Viserion to the kitchen next, after much begging that he needed to eat something that wasn’t cookies. Right before they had to come back to the room, he was sure to leave a small flame lighting on the edge of the tablecloth of the table.

Drogon was the last; setting the only mattress of the room on fire with his lighter once Mr. J left, but it wasn’t long before smoke started to show through under the door as it mixed with the one starting to spread inside the room.

Mr. J and the Giant Man had broken in the room so desperate that it scared them and they didn’t have time to react to their good plan that they were taken out of the ugly room. It had surprised them to see that the fire had spread quickly, for it was a mess upstairs; the flames were starting to come out from the bathroom and the kitchen to start catching in the small place in the center.

Viserion was proud to know that the plan had worked when the Giant Man and Mr. J took them through the third door; it looked like a house outside it, with a big living room.

It was when Mr. J told them to stay still on the big couch that they placed them in that they saw that there were men outside, guarding the front door. Drogon was happy to do the next step of the plan; set bigger things on fire.

Mr. J and the Giant Man were too busy with trying to turn off the fire downstairs that they didn’t see Drogon lighting up the big couch they had to be sitting in. Or the small couch. Or the window’s curtains.

Soon everything was orange and hot and not only Mr. J and the Giant Man but the men from outside got inside the house to try to throw water on the growing flames that were starting to catch on the walls.

It was a chaos. But a good one.

The front door had been left opened. And that was all they needed to run away while the grown-ups were busy trying to fix the mess they’d made.

But they’d been walking for a long time through the woods. Viserion’s feet were starting to hurt, but Rhaegal insisted in that they had to keep walking or else they’d find them and take them back.

And they’d be in _big_ trouble.

“When are we going to get there?”

Drogon groaned, probably annoyed since he’d asked that question many times already. “I don’t know. But we have to keep walking till we find another house. Or someone that can help us get back to mama.”

Rhaegal frowned. “And how do we know that they’re not one of the bad guys?”

The tallest six year old opened his mouth to answer, but after a moment, decided to shrug. “I don’t know. We have to find an old lady. Old ladies are always good.”

Viserion jumped from a big rock to the ground and sighed. “And what if we don’t find an old lady? What do we do?”

“We’ll find one, if you just shut up and walk faster.”

“Don’t be mean,” Viserion exclaimed upset. He’d tolerate his brother when he was moody but now his feet hurt, he missed their mama a lot and he was scared that night came and they’d still be in the woods; the woods were scarier when it was night. He didn’t want to be here for that. “I just want to find mama and Jon.”

“Ew!” Rhaegal suddenly yelled, which made his brother look back at him. The bronze haired boy groaned as he pulled his feet out of the mud. “I think we’ve already walked in here. My other foot got sucked into this mud before.”

Drogon titled his head. “Before when?”

Viserion sighed loudly and folded his arms. “I told you I’ve seen this tree before! We’re lost!”

“We are not lost!”

“Let’s vote where we want to go,” Rhaegal intervened before his brother would get even more upset. “I say…” he put a finger on his chin and thought about it deeply, watching the trees around them. He looked to the ground and saw marked steps on it; it was his own dirty shoe, the one that had stuck in the mud before. That had to mean that they’d taken that path already. “There,” he pointed to the left direction. “We’ve already come down here because my foot with the mud is there and we came back here. We have to go there now.”

Viserion nodded in agreement as Rhaegal had to roll his eyes at his other brother faking he was thinking about it when he knew he was right. After long seconds, Drogon shrugged.

“Okay. But if it’s not the right one, I choose next.”

“You chose this one. Viserion gets to choose the next one.”

“Yes!”

Drogon groaned and took the lead of the path his brother had chosen, watching as they followed him. Deep down, he hoped Rhaegal was right, even though he was going to rub it on his face if he did, but he didn’t want to be in the woods at night. There could be wild animals and they didn’t have Ghost to protect them. He’d take care of his brothers as much as he could; he was the tallest of the three but he was still small and he didn’t know how to fight very well. He had to ask Jon to teach him how to fight when he saw him again. That’d be good.

He just hoped that would be soon.

**III**

Jon eyed the silver-blonde sitting next to him and contained the sigh that wanted to come out, keeping his gaze forward as he kept driving through the road.

Daenerys had asked an old couple for instructions to get to the abandoned cabin they were talking about and they were happy to help; Jon was utterly confused but he got in the car with her nonetheless. She explained to him on the way that the burned cabin had to be connected with her children – Drogon had the habit of burning things when upset and it wouldn’t have surprised her if he did now.

That old, abandoned cabin was an hour away from the hotel they were in. They’d gotten to the place to find the firemen that crushed their hopes when they told them that no one had been found inside and no one was there when they got to it. They didn’t know what caused the fire other than it started in the house’s basements, given how damaged was down there.

Jon was happy to know that the kids weren’t there but Daenerys had been nothing but disappointed. The boys were her sons, but they weren’t Targaryen by blood, they couldn’t have resisted that fire, so why wasn’t she glad that they weren’t inside there?

It was strange, though. The firemen told them that this house had been abandoned for years and there had never been an incident in these woods, much less with the cabin. They couldn’t understand what happened.

They were coming back to the hotel now, given it was 2.10pm and they’d be off to meet Cersei in an hour. All the stress and worry would be over then, but a new pain was going to start to set its roots as well.

“You’ll see them soon,” Jon tried to say in an effort to comfort her, knowing she was back in that state of shutting people out and being dead silent. “In less than an hour, they’re going to be back with you.”

Daenerys didn’t answer right away.

“Why did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Why did you agree to it so quickly?”

Jon's fingers gripped tight at the wheel. “You think I don’t care.”

She moved her head to him. “I didn’t say that.”

“But you think it. Why are you always thinking the worst of me?!”

A heavy sigh escaped from her lips as she focused back on her window and the view of the woods outside. “I’m not going to fight with you. Much less if you’re driving.”

“Fine then.”

He abruptly turned to the edge of the road and stopped the car. He’d thought, for a brief moment, that they could fix the things between them before all this was over when he crashed into her in the stairs. She didn’t hold that common coldness in her stare and neither did he, for he’d come down to talk to her in good terms, and for a moment, he believed she wanted to do the same, but then they were hurrying to get to the cabin and there was no time to talk about it.

But once again, Daenerys was thinking the worst of him – what was she going to come up with now? That it was his fault that Cersei thought of that condition? He didn’t know what to believe anymore.

She had her purple eyes wide, surprised that he’d stopped the car at the edge of road, but he didn’t care. They weren’t that far from the hotel, only thirty minutes away; they had plenty of time to get there.

“You really think I don’t care about you leaving the country, unable to be in contact with us? What do you think I am, Daenerys? Some piece of ice?”

“I did not say that!” She repeated, clearly more frustrated than the last time. “But you didn’t make any attempt to show me otherwise, did you?”

“So what did you want me to do? Beg you to not accept it when your children’s safety is at stake? If I show you that I care, you push me away, if I don’t show you anything at all, you still get upset; I don’t know what you want from me!”

Jon took the security belt off and got out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him. He needed to cool down, but this woman truly knew how to get on his nerves. How could she think he didn’t care? He cared about her more than anything and the mere thought of her leaving to not see him again was shattering him; but yet she still believed the contrary, like he didn’t care or didn’t love her with all his being.

Another door slammed shut.

Jon turned around to find Daenerys walking around to car to get closer to him.

“At first, I thought about it – I thought you didn’t care, but then I realized that was stupid because how could you not care? But you didn’t even say something to talk about it afterwards, I looked into your eyes and I saw nothing, Jon! What do you expect me to think? You won’t talk to me; you won’t look at me if it’s not to glare. I know I screwed it up, I do, but please believe me when I say I am truly sorry and I regret what I said because it’s not true. I don’t regret being in Winterfell and being happy with you and my children and your family because these days were the _best_ days of my life.” Her purple eyes flooded with tears as her bottom lip quivered with each word spoken. “And I don’t know why I took all my anger on you… it was wrong, but you were the only one that truly was there for me and I… I have to work on this... problem of taking it out on the people I love most, but –”

“Daenerys –”

“No, just listen to me,” he watched her taking a deep breath and wiping away a few tears that blinked out of her eyes. “I love you, Jon. Like I’ve never loved anyone. You feel like… _home_ , to me. You and my children are the home I never had, and I thought my dream was coming true with you in my life, but now all that is falling apart because… you’re not going to be with us, and it’s breaking me inside. The last thing I want to do is hurt you, I’m sorry that I did, but please… I can’t lose you.”

Jon didn’t know if she was going to keep on, but he couldn’t wait any longer to come closer to her and take her face between his hands before his lips crashed into hers. He had needed this for hours, to taste her strawberry and salty lips, to feel her hands around his neck to pull him closer, to have the warmth of her breath against his mouth.

“You won’t lose me. Ever.”

The purple orbs under the long, black eyelashes shimmered with delight as her lips quirked up into a tiny grin. His hands moved down to her waist to hold her close to him, as her face leant in catch his lips again;

“Mama?!”

“Jon!”

Jon and Daenerys stared at each other, faces inches away and eyebrows coming in together with confusion. Did they just hear –

“Mama, Jon!”

Both of them spun around to find Rhaegal, Drogon and Viserion across the road, just getting out from the woods. They didn’t make any attempt to walk or even move, for the sight had frozen them… but the boys did. They ran towards them as fast as they could and bumped into them, their little arms holding on to their legs as they snapped out of the shock.

“Boys,” Daenerys breathed out in a mere whisper as she knelt and wrapped her arms around her three children, holding on to them for her dear life as new tears started to gather up in her eyes, her face hiding between Drogon and Rhaegal’s necks and hand bringing Viserion closer to her.

“We missed you, mama!” Rhaegal whispered against her hair. “Did you miss us?”

“Yes, I missed you,” she slightly moved away from them to look at each one of their faces, hands touching their cheeks to _feel_ them. “You have no idea how much I missed you.”

Once their mother separated from them, they had time to focus on the other grown-up they’d waited so much to see. “Jon!”

Jon knelt down and opened his arms for the three little boys running into them. He smiled to feel Drogon’s strong little hands holding on to him, to smell what was left of the familiar scent of Viserion’s hair, and to have Rhaegal’s rebel hair tickling his neck, feeling the hot water stinging in his eyes as his arms encircled all of them, his heart racing with a happiness and relief he'd never felt before.

He stretched his arm to pull Daenerys with them, seeing the bright happiness reflecting in every feature of her face, from her sparkling purple eyes to the wide smile tugging her lips, her hands reaching out to keep touching her sons’ faces, as if making sure they were truly there.

“We made a mission; it was called the _Home_ mission,” Drogon quickly explained to them with a huge, pride smile. “It was about getting back to you and we did it!”

“We found you!” Viserion squealed with enthusiasm. “We knew we would!”

Daenerys and Jon exchanged a knowing look; _home_. Yes. This was their home, and they weren’t going to give up on it, just like the boys never did.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _chapter 25, who said i'd get to here? but it's all because of you, so thank you so much!_
> 
> _someone asked about it in the last chapter and i was already thinking about it, so i gotta tell you that this story is ending in **two chapters** , BUT, i've got several more ideas for this family so this won't be ending right there, but it'll be the end of this part then._
> 
> _kind of long chapter ahead. please let me know your thoughts. :)_

“… and then boom! Everything was on fire and it was awesome! … Mama, are you listening to me?”

“Yes, yes, I just…” she let go of Viserion for third time to focus back on Drogon, eyes unconsciously looking at him up and down to verify that he was indeed fine. Her oldest son had been telling the story about how their big plan worked but she couldn’t shake the need to check on every one of them to make sure they weren’t hurt, even if they’d repeatedly told her they were just fine. “I need to make sure you’re okay.”

“But we’re okay,” Rhaegal answered her, trying to take more space on Jon’s lap since him and Drogon were sitting on each of his legs, with the bronze haired boy being near the window but wanting his brother’s place. “Drogon, let me sit there, I wanna be near mama too!”

“You chose to sit there!”

“But I want to be there now!”

“So?”

“Boys,” Jon spoke up, noticing the death-glares the two brothers were already giving to each other and knowing it wouldn’t be long before one of them decided to throw a hand to the other. “There’s plenty of place for both of you.”

“They weren’t fighting when we were in the ugly room,” Viserion commented, cuddling more into his mother with a small frown forming on his face. “It was so ugly, mama.  The Giant Man was scary, but Mr. J was nice.”

“Mr. J?” Daenerys repeated, realization starting to settle in. Everyone knew of Cersei’s personal guard that people called the Mountain as he was famous for his skills in boxing and for being a big man; he must have been the Giant Man, but the other one she wasn’t so sure. “What was he like?”

“He was tall, and he was like Hook from Peter Pan because he didn’t have a hand. He had a mask on so we couldn’t see his face but we saw he had green eyes,” the blonde child kept on, unaware of the glances that Jon and Dany exchanged. “He was good. He brought us hot cocoa and cookies in the morning and he took us to the bathroom when we wanted to and he spoke very nice.”

Jaime Lannister. It couldn’t be other than him. He may have been kind to her children, but that didn’t take away the fact that he was involved in their kidnapping… he had to pay for what he’d done, as would his sister. Cersei had no longer power over her; she wasn’t going to give up the Company and she didn’t have to leave the country and Jon behind.

All because her boys escaped. Her beautiful, smart boys. She couldn’t be prouder of them.

“But he was still a bad guy,” Drogon remarked. “He wasn’t as bad as the Giant Man and the Evil Lady, but still.”

“Evil Lady?” Jon asked, arching an eyebrow. “What Evil Lady?”

“Mr. J said she was the boss,” Rhaegal continued for his brother. “We didn’t see her face, but we saw her pretty hair and she spoke to us. She threatened us because we tried to escape many times… but then Drogon came up with fire idea and Viserion made the plan and we won!”

“She tried to tell me that a lioness would win against a small dragon, but I knew that wasn’t true; dragons are more powerful than lions, small or not.” Drogon told them upset, until a smile broke in on his face as his orange eyes looked at his mother. “But we showed her that, right, mama?”

“Yes,” Daenerys smiled and reached out to put a finger under his chin. “You were very brave. All of you. I’m so proud of you.”

The three smiles filled with pride on the boys’ faces were priceless as if that was something they were very eager to hear. Viserion moved his head from her neck to Jon’s way.

“Are you proud too, Jon?”

Daenerys couldn’t help the smile tugging in her lips to see the seriousness on the six years olds’ features, almost holding their breath waiting for Jon’s response.

“Of course,” he said with a nod and a grin. “You truly are the smartest kids I’ve ever known.”

The kids giggled in delight as her heart overflew with joy to see they cared about Jon's opinion so much. Daenerys enjoyed the silence that came after the sound of their innocent laughs, watching two of her boys resting their heads against Jon’s chest, feeling her youngest child’s against hers and seeing a soft and lovely dark gaze staring back at her. Everything was calm; her mind hadn’t stopped for one second since last night and it was filled with peace now.

She wanted to stay in the car for hours, but knew it wouldn’t be long before Sansa, Arya and Tyrion arrived to stay with the kids so she’d meet Cersei. She wasn’t done with her.

 “Mama?” Rhaegal’s small voice sounded. “Doreah was one of the bad guys, too. She took Viserion. She doesn’t have to take care of us anymore, right?”

“No. You’re not going to see her… ever again.”

“Good,” the boy nodded. “Because she was mean sometimes. We don’t need her. We have Irri and Missy.”

Jon looked at her with pity eyes as swallowed hard. Her children knew about the basics of death: people that died went to heaven and they couldn’t see them again, that was it for them. But they’d never lost someone close to them to death; Ser Barristan Selmy was the only one that they knew that died. They weren’t that close to him but the old man had been in their lives since they were one and it made them sad when they found out they couldn’t see him again because he was gone to heaven… Ser Barristan used to spoil them a lot; always eager to give them anything they wanted at any moment. He told her many times he was so glad that he’d lived enough to see three new Targaryens growing up.

The boys were only four years old when he died so they were too young to understand and weren’t in constant sadness, but they’d say they missed him from time to time when they remembered him.

Irri, however, was another thing. Her friend had been with them since day 1, she changed their diapers, fed them, endured tantrums, stayed with her in nights when the three of them would get sick, took such great care of them when she was gone, and all with a smile because she loved the little dragons, how she used to call them.

Irri was like a second mother to them – their hearts were going to be broken when they found out she was gone forever.

“Yes,” Daenerys managed to whisper, not trusting her voice to sound so firm.

She missed her friend already, and she was sure they were going to miss her even more… but she couldn’t tell them just yet. She didn’t want to drop the bomb on them and then leave them to meet with Cersei, unable to comfort them. It had to wait.

“Look!” Drogon suddenly pointed his finger forward. “Is that Sansa?”

Daenerys and Jon got out of the car, the kids holding on to their respective hands, and watched as Sansa stopped the car she was driving right in front of them. Arya was the first to get out, a smirk drawing on her lips to see the Targaryen kids as she shook her head.

“You kids are really something else, aren’t you? You three fooled no one else than Cersei Lannister, you sneaky little bas…” Jon and Daenerys arched an eyebrow to her. “Dragons. Little dragons.”

Rhaegal nodded enthusiastically. “We made a mission; do you want to hear about it?”

“Of course. I want every detail.”

“Mr. Tyrion!” Viserion waved his free hand to the little man as he walked closer to them. “What are you doing here?”

“Because of you, of course. I am glad you are all okay. Everyone was looking for you; part of the government, the police…”

Viserion’s golden eyes grew wild. “The police?! Because we burned down a house?! It was for a good cause! We don’t want to go to jail!”

All the adults laughed as his mother rubbed the top of his hair. “You’re not going to jail, sweetling. The bad guys are going to jail, for taking you away.”

“You burned down a house?!” Sansa repeated his words, blue eyes wide with surprise. “Now that’s something we want to hear.”

The three children were happy to follow the Stark sisters into the car to tell them all about their mission as Daenerys gave them a smile of gratitude for distracting them while they figured out what to do with Cersei.

“So…” Tyrion stepped closer to the couple. “I guess my sister’s conditions are off the list?”

Daenerys smiled lightly to feel Jon’s hand interweaving hers; her smile widened a bit to see a knowing look on Tyrion’s face at the sight of their hands. She took a deep breath and looked at Jon’s eyes, seeing nothing but determination.

She looked back at Tyrion and sighed. “Cersei is waiting for us. We can’t keep her waiting, can we?”

**I**

“Well, well, well. Aren’t you two adorable together?”

Jon didn’t glance at Daenerys but felt her hand tensing as they entered an old warehouse and saw Cersei waiting for them in the center of it, with his twin brother and the Mountain right behind her.

“You know, when Euron told me that he was sure that Jon Snow was fucking the Targaryen woman, I didn’t believe it. But I did when I saw it on the magazine… quite the northern pet you got, dear. Such a shame it’s not going to last.”

Daenerys’ face remained blank and her voice calm as she asked, “Where are my children?”

“They’re fine. I met them earlier, and like I said, they live up to their reputation of sneaky and troubled kids. But of course, nothing I can’t candle.”

Jon arched an eyebrow and had to bite his tongue to keep the words and the laugh in. Cersei merely glared at him before focusing back on the silver-blonde next to him, green eyes moving down to the brown envelope Daenerys had in her free hand.

“You signed them?”

“Yes,” Dany answered her, letting go of his hand to hold the envelope in front of her. She stepped closer to Cersei, who was already reaching out for it, but stopped a few meters from her. “But first, I need to know why. Why did you have to bring my children into this? They are innocent. They didn’t deserve to go through this.”

“But this isn’t about them,” the older woman frowned at her, cocking her head to the side like she’d just said a stupid thing. “This was about you, Daenerys. About you suffering like I once did… you should have stayed in Russia and not try to take my home from me.”

“Home? What home? The Company you tried to keep at all costs? Even if it meant betraying, stealing and murdering. I wasn’t going to stay in Russia knowing what you were capable of doing, all because you were protected by something that was mine. I had the power to take it from you, so I did what I had to.”

Jon saw the way Cersei gulped, teeth gritted in a tensed jaw. “You have no power here. I worked hard to get where I am and no one is taking that from me.”

“Yes,” Daenerys nodded to her. “I am sure you worked hard to destroy the Starks. To let your son behead Eddard Stark, to command the murderers of Robb and Catelyn Stark, to hold Sansa against her will. Was it hard to command your… guard,” her purple eyes glanced over to the Mountain for a moment before moving back at her. “To kill Oberyn Martell? Or to make Loras Tyrell disappear? How hard was that for you?”

Cersei narrowed her eyes at her. “Have you forgotten who has your three, defenseless children?”

Daenerys looked at him, seeking for his help. They’d agreed she wouldn’t lose her temper, but she had her limits and she’d done so well so far; they couldn’t ruin this. He could almost read her thoughts; she wanted to yell at her that she knew that these three defenseless children she spoke about slipped from her hands and were safe with his family back in the hotel.

But they had to keep the act. So Jon took a step forward, cold and hard eyes on the lioness woman a few meters from him.

“No, we haven’t forgotten. But you have to know that one day; you will pay for all that.”

The Lannister woman chuckled. “And here I was thinking the bastard didn’t have a tongue. I heard you were named Stark, but once a bastard, always a bastard, isn’t it?”

“Wouldn’t you know of that?” her orbs grew darker to understand the meaning of his words, as he couldn’t stop the curve of his lips from turning up into a petty smirk. She had some nerve to be calling him a bastard when she birthed to three and never admitted to it. “I am a Stark. I have always been a Stark.”

It was time to accept that the wolf blood ran through his veins as much as it did with his siblings; he had his father’s blessing and that was all he needed. Ned must have planning to do it on life but he made sure to leave a document to have it done even after his death, in case something happened; that showed Jon how much he cared about him and that was enough for him. But despite the name, he’d always had the wildness and always tried to stick to honor, something his family was known for years.

He was proud to be able to carry the Stark name once and for all and he wasn’t going to let anyone dismiss that.

“I’ve always knew whose family I belonged to, but that’s not something you can say about your children, can you?” he apologized to Myrcella and Tommen Baratheon in the inside, knowing the kind and sweet children didn’t know better than what their mother told them… Joffrey could suck it up, for all he cared. Jon knew he touched a nerve when Cersei closed her hand into a fist and stepped closer to him, even the Mountain followed her movements. He wanted to reach out for Daenerys in case something went wrong and they had to end this in a whole different way, not wanting her to be in the middle of a disaster. But she only looked at him with fearless eyes and an arched eyebrow, expecting him to keep on. “You knew your children didn’t have a claim to the Company. My father knew that and you filled your son’s head with ideas to assassinate him and make it look he just disappeared. You have no right to the Seven Kingdoms and you know it.”

Cersei looked like she was about to explode at any moment but he held her fierce stare and watched as she swallowed, moving her chin up to keep the composure. “I am Robert Baratheon’s widow. I have every right to the Seven Kingdoms and no boy like you is going to ch –”

“You do not,” Daenerys interrupted her, her gaze slightly drifting to the blonde man standing right behind her. “You killed my father in cold blood, stabbing him on the back.”

“I did the world a favor,” Jaime Lannister spoke for first time, his voice firm and dry. “Your father was mad – the Mad King everyone called him here. He wanted to burn cities with countless of people on it and he had people dumb enough to follow his orders; I wasn’t going to take that risk. It was on self-defense of me and of everyone.”

“That’s what you told everyone inside the Company, but why did you and your family spread the word to everyone that he died of a terminal illness if you were so sure of your self-defense?” Daenerys hissed between gritted teeth as Jaime couldn’t hold her gaze, lowering his eyes to the ground. “Such a hero you were, saving the city by killing a man with mental illness instead of taking him to the justice like you should have done. He may have been the head of the Seven Kingdoms Company at the time, but no one is untouchable forever,” she made sure to look back at Cersei on her last words. “Your father helped Robert Baratheon to create that false contract with my father’s false sign. He never agreed to share the Company with the Baratheon’s; therefore, you have no right to it.”

“What is done is done,” Cersei raised her voice. “Our country is known for sticking to old traditions – people can fantasy with calling you King or Queen and you can rule like one if you’re smart enough. Robert took the Company from your father, it’s true. The papers were false, but that’s how Westeros work. You want something, you take it.”

Daenerys narrowed her eyes. “That doesn’t make it any less illegal…” she shook her head. “One day, justice will come for you, even if it’s not now and not because of me.”

Cersei laughed loudly. “You really are naïve. Nothing will ever happen to me as long as I am in the head of the Seven Kingdoms – there’s too much corruption out there, dear. I can do as I please. I could kill you both right now and no one would find out about it.” Jon took a step closer to Daenerys, glaring at Jaime to see getting closer to his sister. “You say that you did what you had to by coming to Westeros and take back what’s yours, but so did I with the people that intervened in my way…” her sparkling, wicked eyes settled on Jon. “Your father should have minded his own business. Your brother should have stayed in the North.”

Jon couldn’t help his hand closing into a tight fit till his knuckles turned white and walking forward to her, hadn’t Daenerys put a hand on his chest to stop him. All the calmness he’d been filling himself with throughout this whole meeting had banished the moment she spoke about Robb; she had to wash her mouth a thousand times before speaking of his brother.

“Let’s get this over with,” Daenerys spoke up and stepped forward towards Cersei, knowing they couldn’t hold themselves back much longer. He watched her stop right in front of the woman before she handed her the brown envelope. Cersei reached out to take it, but as her fingers brushed against it, Dany moved it away, titling her head to the side, a confused frown shaping her eyebrows. “But… there’s something I still need to know.”

Cersei let out an exasperated sigh, glaring up at her. “What?”

“Who do you think would win in a fight now? A small dragon or a fierce lioness?”

Cersei was confused for a brief moment before realization sunk in. Jon didn’t move and Daenerys didn’t even flinch when more than ten police officers broke in the warehouse with their guns up, screaming at the Lannisters to stay still and put their hands up where they could see them.

Officers made Jaime and the Mountain knelt before placing the handcuffs on them, but Cersei tried to resist to the officers wanting to take her hands. “What are you doing? I am Cersei Lannister, you can’t touch me, I am the owner of the Seven Kingdoms Com –”

“You are not,” Jon glanced over his shoulder to see Olenna Tyrell walking towards them, a genuine grin on her face. “The rightful heir of the Seven Kingdoms Company is Daenerys Targaryen, you’ve just admitted that Robert Baratheon took it illegally years ago, and I thank the gods to let me see this day come. Thank you, Cersei.”

An officer finally managed to get Cersei’s hands behind her back to handcuff them as Daenerys took a step towards her, Jon could recognize the fire lighting up her purple eyes as she glared up and down at the Lannister woman before speaking up in a low whisper;

“You should have known better than to mess with dragons.”

“Cersei Lannister, you’re under arrest for the kidnapping of Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion Targaryen you have the right to remain silent –”

Jon let out a long sigh as the officers took Jaime, the Mountain and Cersei away; Daenerys took out the micro microphone under her sweater and gave it to an officer police that came up to them. She turned around and hugged him as soon as she saw him; his arms held her tight as his face hid in her neck.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Daenerys moved away and took his face between her hands, frowning slightly to him. “You don’t have to thank me for anything. This is what your family deserves. Justice.”

Cersei wouldn’t be only accused of the Targaryen brothers’ kidnapping but for the murderer of Robb and Catelyn Stark and Oberyn Martell and the disappearance of Loras Tyrell; they had evidence now that she hadn’t denied the accusations when Daenerys said it to her face and even talked about Robb, as much as it boiled Jon’s blood, she implied she had something to do with his death… that was enough for her to go to trial for it.

“You did it,” Jon moved a lock of silver-blonde hair behind her ear, enjoying the light inside her purple orbs, reflecting the happiness she felt inside to finally have what was hers. “You got back your family’s business.”

“Yeah,” she said without much enthusiasm to which he was confused, but her full lips extended in a wide smile as her hand stroked gently his cheek. “But the most important thing is I can be happy now, without having to worry about someone threatening the ones I love. I can be happy with you and my children. That’s all I care about.”

“Well, that’s good, because then it would have been awkward.”

Daenerys moved her head back in confusion. “Awkward?”

Jon grinned to her reaction. “Yes, because that’s all I care about too.”

She rolled her eyes in amusement. “You are impossible, Jon… Stark.”

“It sounds weird. You can say it. I can take it.”

“It does not!” She quickly said, afraid that he’d think that she found it weird. But his grin only grew into a cheeky one, which made her shake her head and slightly hit him on the chest. “I hate you sometimes.”

“Well, I can say that I love you. At all times.”

He noticed the change from amusement to softness on her features before she leant in, “I love you too,” she arched an eyebrow. “At all times.”

Jon smiled and didn’t want to waste any other second in kissing her. So he did.

**II**

Daenerys got out of the bathroom to find Jon walking back and forth in front of the window, hand gently caressing Rhaegal’s back as the boy rested his head on his shoulder, asleep. Her heart swelled with softness to the sight as she walked over to them, her eyes glancing to the other two boys sleeping on the bed for a moment.

“What happened?”

She’d gone to take a much needed, hot shower knowing the three boys were asleep and Jon would be watching over them, but her hand reached out to stroke her son’s bronze hair, imagining what must have caused his awakening.

“He had a nightmare,” Jon merely whispered, probably too afraid he’d wake up at any time. It must have taken him time to get him back to sleep, but given Rhaegal’s parted lips and heavy breathing, Daenerys knew he wouldn’t wake up any time soon. “About… the last time he saw Irri.”

Dany sighed deeply; thumb caressing the boy’s chubby, still wet cheek. “Poor thing. I think I’m going to have to find a… therapist. For Irri and for their kidnapping, even if they took it as an adventure, I can’t take it lightly.”

Jon nodded as she leant in to kiss Rhaegal’s forehead, wishing she could wipe out her children’s memories about that night. It’d angered and pained her to no end to find out that Rhaegal and Drogon had to see Irri’s lifeless body, their innocent minds thinking she was just awake but in a different way. Daenerys had tried her best to reassure them that she wasn’t gone back then, even if it was a lie, but she didn’t want them to keep that image of their beloved Irri – they believed it, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t haunt them in their nightmares.

She had to tell them about Irri’s death. Rickon had wanted to make sure his young friends were fine so they facetimed with him and Missandei couldn’t stop herself from wanting to be part of the call as well – the boy were happy to talk to them, but they wanted to speak with Irri… and were very insistent about it, claiming that she was “awake in a strange way” the last time they saw her and wanted to see her again.

She’d sat with them on the bed, holding on to Jon’s hand, trying to keep her voice steady and clear from emotions, for she had to be strong for them.

_“Boys, there’s something… you need to know about Irri. Something… happened to her. There was… an accident and…”_

_“And what?”_

_“She, um… she is… gone. To heaven.”_

None of them reacted at first; they seemed to be confused, looking at each other as if she didn’t make any sense. She’d felt Jon squeezing her hand, giving her the strength for what was coming next;

_“That can’t be true,” Drogon was the first to say something, his dark eyebrows coming in together in a deep frown. “Irri would never leave us. She can’t go to heaven.”_

_“It wasn’t up to her,” she was careful to pick her words, feeling like she was dealing with delicate glass – and deep down, she knew she was, for her boys were as brave and strong as they could be, but they were just six years old, too innocent and good for this cruel world, and even with their short years, they loved dearly those close to them. “Irri didn’t want to go to heaven but… you can’t choose when to go or not to there. It’s something that… happens.”_

_“But if Irri went to heaven, we can’t see her again,” Viserion reasoned, golden eyes growing big and swallowing so hard she could see it on his throat. “We won’t see Irri… ever again?”_

_Daenerys took a deep breath. “No… I’m so sorry,” Viserion was fast to have the tears flooding his eyes as she opened her arms for him, letting him sit on her lap and hugging him as much as she could. She put her chin on his head and caressed his arm over and over again, watching as the other two boys were starting to take in their brother’s words, eyes slowly watering. “But you have to know that she’ll always be watching over you three. Always.”_

_“You make her come back,” Rhaegal tried to sound angry, but his chin was starting to tremble, lips pursing tightly. “We won’t make any more pranks, we will always obey her, we **promise** , but make her come back!”_

_Daenerys looked at Jon, silently pleading him to say something. He took a deep breath and focused on the two six years old in front of him._

_“Your mother can’t make her come back, sadly,” he reached out to take his tiny hands in his. “But someone being in heaven doesn’t mean they stop being in our life. My brother and my father are in heaven, too, and I know they are with me and my brothers and sisters, always. Even if we can’t see them.”_

_“Is that why she was awake but with her eyes open?” Drogon ignored him all the same, orange eyes flickering as they looked back at Daenerys. “She was on the floor, but she wasn’t sleeping like Missy… she had her eyes open. I thought she was awake but in a strange way. She was fighting with Doreah before. She did something to her?”_

_“No,” Daenerys was fast to answer; shocked they’d seen her friend’s body when she was already dead. She had to come up with something very quickly. “She had an accident… later. After you were taken. She was fine there but something happened later that… made her go to heaven.”_

_“I don’t want Irri in heaven, I want her here, with us,” Rhaegal said in a much lower voice than before, crawling to Jon’s lap to curl up against him as he wrapped his arms around him. “Irri is family.”_

_“She’ll still be your family,” Jon kissed the top of his head._

_“It’s not fair!” Drogon yelled, arms crossing over his chest and small tears starting to fall down from his eyes. “Why did she have go to heaven?! I hate heaven!”_

_Daenerys couldn’t answer him because she didn’t have an answer to that and instead took his hand and led him to sit on her other leg and wrap him with her free arm, holding both her boys as she watched Rhaegal weeping on Jon’s chest._

_She felt her own tears sliding on her cheeks but in silence, not only for one of her best friend’s death, but because of her sons’ pain. They were silent for long minutes, sniffing from the kids were the only thing heard, until Viserion’s quiet voice sounded._

_“Mama,” he looked up at her, curiosity filling his golden and tearful eyes. “Do you think Irri will be taking care of Rhaego now?”_

_Her lips curved to the side to imagine it – she hadn’t thought of that, but such pure thought couldn’t have come from her. “Yes. I believe so.”_

Daenerys watched as Jon walked towards the bed to carefully place Rhaegal next to Viserion, who had both his wolf Grey Wind and his dragon Vhagar at both sides; he’d been blissful to see she’d brought his little wolf from Winterfell and that Tyrion had come back from Dragonstone with his dearest white dragon, it’d helped him cheer up after much tears.

After tucking Rhaegal in the bed and making sure that Drogon had the covers up to his neck, Jon walked back to her and wrapped her in a tight embrace, knowing she needed it after the long day they’d had. She let herself be lost on his sweet aroma and the sound of his heartbeat resonating on her ear.

The worst had passed.

Cersei was imprisoned. They had to stay a few more days in King’s Landing to testify against her – even her children would have to tell what happened in their stay in that cabin, though Daenerys was determined to keep them out of this as much as possible.

Once this process was done, they’d be going back to Dragonstone to have a burial for Irri – her friend had liked Winterfell, but she thought it to be fit to have her body transferred to the first place they’d landed on Westeros, given how much she loved it there.

Considering that it wouldn’t be long for the Company to be on her hands, they’d come back to King’s Landing where she would have to look for a house to stay in… for good. And when all that was settled, she’d return to Winterfell with Jon to have a proper goodbye to Rickon and Bran and the place.

Dany lifted her head up, chin resting against his chest. “Are you sure you want to stay with us till we come back to Winterfell?”

Jon offered her a sweet, small smile. “Yes. I want to be there for you and the boys until we make sure everything’s fine.”

“But you don’t have to…”

“I want to.” Jon declared in a strong voice, leaving room for no arguments. She wouldn’t fight it twice but she wanted him to know that he wasn’t forced to, but she had to admit that it made her beyond happy that Jon was staying with them throughout it all. “I don’t want to be in Winterfell knowing you need me.”

Daenerys smiled, her hands moving away black locks that kept falling from his face to have a better look, admiring the moonlight flashing on his features – how could she ever think bad of him and snap at him like she did? His eyes held nothing but love whenever they landed on her and as much as she thought she wasn’t worth it, she remembered the ache to have nothing of that hours ago when they couldn’t speak to each other without ending up in a fight.

But that was long gone now; he made sure to show her that when his lips pressed against her forehead.

“I wanted to thank you…” he frowned upon her. “For staying by my side, even if I pushed you away. You didn’t leave.”

“No one could have taken me from your side, not even you,” his face leant in to rest his forehead against hers, their faces too close that she could see the dark grey of his eyes contrasting against his black pupil, and the humor appearing in them. “Besides, you’re my girlfriend, aren’t you, Daenerys Targaryen?”

She merely rolled her eyes before giving in. “That I am, Jon Sn – Stark,” she had to bite her tongue, why was so hard for her to grow used to the name?

Jon must have noticed her annoyance, for he chuckled lightly. “You can call me Jon Snow. That was my name when we met and if there’s something that I want to hold on to Snow for, is meeting you. So I’d like to keep it, between us.”

That was the thing, Daenerys realized. They’d met with him carrying the Snow last name and she’d fallen in love with him being Jon Snow; it didn’t matter to her if he didn’t carry his family’s name at the time and it didn’t matter that he did now. He still was the Jon that she loved, Snow or Stark, but there would be something special about keeping Jon Snow only for them.

But the fact that despite the melancholia that it’d brought to him for not being recognized as part of his family because of it, he wanted to make it special and valuable just because of meeting her… it melted her heart.

“I truly don’t deserve you, Jon Snow, at all,” he drew a scowl on his eyebrows, lips parting ready to protest. “But I am too in love with you to care about that.”

Daenerys kissed him firmly, before he could say something like he was the one that didn’t deserve her, which would only prove more her point – so she held on to the collar of his shirt, determined to not break apart and let him speak. She could feel his smirk between their lips, probably figuring out her plan, but he didn’t do anything else than to place his hands on her waist to hold her close.

“Mama?”

Dany broke apart from Jon to look down and find a pair of golden eyes staring up at her in curiosity and a bit of fear. She smiled at him and lifted him off the ground, placing him on her hip as she rubbed some of his blonde-cream hair off his forehead.

“What is it, sweetling? You can’t sleep?”

Viserion shook his head, hugging his dragon and wolf to his chest. “I saw the Giant Man taking me back to the ugly room in my dreams. I don’t want to sleep now.”

“The Giant Man is in jail with the bad guys,” Jon reminded him in a soft voice. “He can’t take you to anywhere, remember?”

“Yes…” the child answered in a whisper, hands playing with his teddies, looking a bit ashamed. “But he still scares me. Is that bad?”

“No, not at all,” Daenerys told him. “But we want you to know you won’t see him again and it was just a bad dream.”

“Okay… but can you tell me a story?”

Daenerys looked over at Jon and saw him already half-grinning. Knowing her children, Rhaegal must have asked the same from him when he woke up from his nightmare. Jon gestured to the only large couch of the room, where she sat with her son on her lap and him close to them.

“So…” Jon moved his eyes back and forth between them; Daenerys had to hold back a giggle to see him hesitating about his words, as if he was new to this. “Is there… any story you’d like?”

Viserion nodded under her chin and handed him his most valuable things, resting back against her chest once Jon took them, a bit confused. “A story about a dragon and a wolf.”

Jon arched an eyebrow, throwing a knowing gaze to her way.

Daenerys smiled at him and nodded. “I’d very much like to hear that story too.”

“Alright then,” Jon smirked at her before his eyes moved down to the child wrapped in her arms, his face growing serious. “Once upon a time, there was this wolf…”


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _next chapter is the last chapter, **whaaaaat?** how did it come to this? thanks to you all, that's for sure. _
> 
> _be aware of a long, fluffy chapter ahead, in honor of the absence that it had in the last chapters. ;)_

Intimacy was hard to find those days, so Daenerys and Jon knew they had to make the best out of what they had.

Which at the moment was only less than thirty minutes before her children came back with his siblings from the park, or cinema, or restaurant – Daenerys couldn’t remember what Sansa’s idea was at the moment, not with the teasing man working between her legs.

Her fingers held on to a bunch of black curls to pull hard from them, lips curving into a satisfied smirk to hear him groan against her wet core. “Jon,” the warning was clear on her breathy voice, having enough of his teasing – she loved it most time, but not when they had their time counted.

Jon finally listened to her, head snapping up, wicked grin plastered on face as he licked his lips before slowly moving back to her. Her hands gripped at the side of his face and brought him closer to feel his hot mouth against hers and have her revenge when her sharp teeth closed onto his lower lip in a tight bite that could have drew blood hadn’t she let go of it quick enough.

“Stop teasing,” she whispered, mouth closing in a hard line to feel his hands sliding down so slowly it sent chills through her spine, as if this was the first and not third time in the past hour that he explored her body with them.

His grin only widened told her he didn’t truly mean his next words. “Sorry, love.”

Daenerys merely rolled her eyes as his wet lips started to trail a fiery path down her neck, her hips moving forward to feel the pressure between her tights, but his strong hands settling her down against the mattress under them.

“Jon,” came out from her parted lips in a groan, her arms interweaving with each other behind his neck as he moved from her neck to up her face, his eyes so dark that she could barely make out the grey color from the black center of it. “Please.”

“As my queen wishes.”

Jon didn't waste any other second in settling in and thrusting into her depth, grinding his hips against hers and lighting her up with a burning pleasure that ran through every part of her.

She’d hate the desperation that her voice showed with every moan that left her lips, but she’d grown used to the need he woke in her whenever their bodies would tangle with each other and warm together. She thought it’d embarrass her to have this growing hunger for someone, but no embarrassment ever emerged under Jon’s touch, because she knew there was no shame in wanting and loving him this much – and he showed her so, with every one of his soft kisses, with his tickling fingers sending shivers all throughout her body, with his eyes showing the equal need for her.

Daenerys closed her eyes, losing herself into his quick movements, hands holding on to his back and nails dipping into his warm skin to feel the explosion starting to build up in her.

She felt his body tensing above her, his hand cupping her cheek as his face hid in the crook of her neck, but she couldn’t register anything more when the shaking from inside spread, her back aching up with the feeling of fire consuming her.

She opened her eyes as a small cry ripped through her lips and her body stiffened under his… until both relaxed and flopped down; hers onto the mattress and his on hers. Dany moved her fingers to his messy hair to gently stroke it; a movement that filled her with peace as she tried to steady her breath.

Jon moved her up to her way; his dark eyes were a bit lighter, shinning with that common softness that he only held in his gaze for her. He didn’t say anything as he gave her a lopsided grin, placing a kiss on the corner of her mouth before rolling off her and laying down next to her.

Daenerys curled up to his side as soon as his arm extended to make room for her, pulling up the covers onto them, even if their bodies had yet to cool down.

She rested her head on his chest and listened attentively to the sound of his heartbeat that was still strongly throbbing inside.

“I needed this.”

Dany chuckled, knowing the feeling; it’d been two _long_ weeks.

Five months had passed since her children’s kidnapping and rescue – everything had been more than fine in her life ever since: she was the head of the Seven Kingdoms Company, Euron and Doreah were already convicted as was Cersei, for her children’s kidnapping, but the trials for all the other accusations had yet to end.

The corruption inside the company had been erased, or so she wanted to believe; Tyrion had made sure to fire the ones that he knew had Cersei’s moral, but he didn’t trust in a few that remained and promised to change.

Daenerys had followed her ideas and had made clear that no one inside the Company, no matter whose family they belonged to, would have free pass to commit and crime and not be judged for it. If someone did something, they’d have to pay for it like any normal would. She was eager to change that aspect of the Company as well as the rule of not letting others states trading with international countries if they desired that, as long as the 70 percent was still for the Seven Kingdoms.

Winterfell was back in the Company after she made that rule in the new contact. Everything was going so well with the business, she was sure her family would be proud.

She’d settled herself in King’s Landing since the Company was placed there – now the Dragonstone’s Targaryen’s mansion would be for their summer stay. She had planned four weeks of vacations in a month or so, so she was looking forward to it and to Winterfell.

The one hard thing was getting to see Jon in only weekends throughout all these months; sometimes he’d get to be in King’s Landing in the middle of the week, but that wasn’t always the case.

The last two weeks had been hard, because Jon had no way to leave Winterfell, his uncle had been sick to the point he couldn’t get up from bed and Jon couldn’t leave him with his siblings and the town matters alone. He had to attend meetings and ceremonies on his behalf.

But Daenerys took it upon herself to get on plane to Winterfell. So here they were; it was the afternoon of a sunny and warm Saturday. She’d arrived in the morning and Sansa had come up with the amazing idea to take her brothers and her children to the park with Arya after lunch, with the purpose to give them some time alone.

A much needed time alone.

“I needed it too.”

“I figured…” she followed the movement of his hand going up to his head as his eyebrows knitted in together. “That hurt.”

She gave him a look. “That was for the teasing.”

“You heated it that much? Didn’t look like it.”

She arched an eyebrow. “I’ll be sure to remember you said that next time.”

Jon smirked. “Like you haven’t done it before.”

“Not when it’s been two weeks long!”

He faked thinking, pursing his lips tight and eyes moving up, to give her a short nod and a shrug in the end.

“Good point.”

Daenerys smiled in victory and rested her head back on his chest.

“Do you forgive me then?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Do I need to get on one knee and ask for your forgiveness?”

“Are you that scared to get the same teasing, Stark?”

She couldn’t see the amusement in his eyes but she knew it was there – and she confirmed it when Jon suddenly twirled her around, her back slamming against the sheets as he placed himself on top of her, knees on the sides of her hips and hands firmly holding back hers above her head.

She suppressed a laugh. “What are you doing?”

“I know your weakness, Dragon Queen…” she frowned in confusion to his half-side grin, one of his hands letting go of hers to trace a single and straight line from her neck to her chest. “So you better forgive me now and say you won’t do it.”

“What?” why would she – her hip moved to the side to feel his touch as delicate as a feather tickling her… wait. “Don’t you dare to –”

“To what?” his grin turned into a smirk as both his hands found the sides of her hips and his fingers started tickling all over them and her stomach, making her squeal and twist under him, trying her best to stop him but being too weak by the light touches that felt like torture. “To this?”

“Stop, stop!” She tried to say between shrieks of laughter, realizing how strong he was as she couldn’t get his hand off of her. “Stop, I won’t do it, stop!”

But he didn’t stop, if only moved his feather fingers all over her sides, but soon her laughter was mixed with his as her hands did her best to get to him and fight back as much as she could, which was enough to get him off of her.

Both of them flopped down on their sides, facing each other, taking in deep breaths, and as much as Daenerys hated him for the tickles torture, she loved every part of it – she lived for the sound of his laugh, for the huge, loving smile on his lips, for the sparkle in his eyes and the black curls falling all over them.

His hand reached out for her hip, but this time to just grip at it to bring her closer to his body as he whispered, “I missed you.”

She leant in to rest her foreheads against his, closing her eyes to feel their noses blushing against each other and a smile tugging in her lips almost by instinct to have his forehead pressed against hers.

“I missed you too,” she wished she could stay like this forever – with their legs entangled together and the other's heat as the only thing warming them, but there was one thing she’d never give up, not even for this, and it was the way her three boys’ faces would light up to see the man in front of her. “I know of three little persons that miss you as well.”

Jon sweetly and knowingly smiled. “Aye. I missed them too, mostly the way they’d jump on me to wake me up; I could have had some of that when I slept in last Saturday and I had to rush to get to a ceremony,” Dany chuckled, more than one time she’d caught the boys jumping on the poor sleeping man, claiming that there was no other way because Jon slept very deeply. “Rhaegal told me they almost didn’t come because of their pranks? He was terrified.”

Daenerys rolled her eyes; she could imagine her son’s dramatic voice and his puppy eyes as he told his version of the story to the man that he knew would scoop him up and be on his side. “It was the only way to get them to stop; they think they’re going to change my mind about the school if they keep going on with these insufferable pranks. They hid very well last night and I couldn’t find them, I thought something happened to them and was ready to get the Unsullied and Dothraki to go out to find them, hadn’t Viserion given up and came to me telling me it was _just_ a prank. That was it. I told them I was not going to change my mind and that I wasn’t sure we’d be coming to here in the morning since they wouldn’t behave.”

Jon sighed with a light smile draw on his lips; for he was well aware of the pranks they’d pulled ever since they found out they’d be going to school once summer ended. “Yeah, they called me two days ago and practically begged me to convince you to not send them to school.”

Daenerys arched an eyebrow, for she was unaware of that; it didn’t surprise her that her kids called Jon without her knowing, that was something normal. Sometimes she’d get home to find them already on a FaceTime with him or running up to her complaining that Jon didn’t answer their call and every time, she’d have to explain to them that he was surely very busy that he couldn’t reply. He’d always call back in the night, right before their bed time, knowing their day schedule by heart.

But now she remembered Drogon and Rhaegal getting mad at her when she told them that they wouldn’t be using any tablets after their prank of throwing liquid soap all over the kitchen’s floor, making the housemaids fall because of it.

_“That’s not fair; we need the tablets to speak with Jon!”_

_“You’ll be speaking with Jon when I get home, or I’ll tell him to call you through the day if he can.”_

_“But we won’t see him!”_

_“I told you there would be consequences for your pranks if you kept on with them.”_

_“You’re mean! We’re telling Jon when we speak with him!”_

“And they didn’t tell you how mean I was because I took the tablets from them?”

Jon shifted in his place, looking a bit guilty, as if he was betraying them. “Maybe… but, I made sure to tell them that I thought what you did was right because they couldn’t keep doing their pranks and that you weren’t mean for that.”

Daenerys sighed. Rhaegal and Drogon had taken the habit of throwing to her face that ‘they were telling Jon about it’ whenever she grounded them, like he was their savior and she’d be in trouble for even daring to speak like that to them, no matter how many times Jon crushed their hopes when he’d tell them that he agreed with her. Even Viserion had managed to let a quiet but presumptuous, _“Jon would let us,”_ slide when she didn’t let them make camps at last moment because it was already late at night and they had to sleep.

It’d get on her nerves sometimes, having to pull the _‘I don’t care if you’re telling Jon, I am your mother and you will do as I say,”_ or _‘But Jon is not here so you will listen to me,”_ cards – now more than ever that they were rebelling against her choice of sending them to school once and for all.

“If they only knew you were the one to convince me to send them to that school.”

Daenerys had been wary of the idea of getting them out of the house to go to a school, even if it was the Red Keep Primary School, which was the most prestigious private school of all Westeros according to Jon and Tyrion. She thought they were just fine with being homeschooled by Missandei, they knew how to read, write and count as much as a six year old could, but Jon slowly but surely convinced her that it’d best for them to start school now, to meet other children, to socialize more.

She knew Jon was right; she couldn’t keep them under her wings forever. They weren’t babies anymore, they had the right to have people in their lives other than their family – she knew what it was like to be homeschooled her whole life and missing the most important thing about being in school; friends that would be by your side as you grew up. She didn’t want a lonely life for her children, so she pushed away her fear and, after talking to their therapist to have the confirmation that they were indeed ready, she agreed to it.

It was an irremovable fact that the boys were going to start First Grade in the Red Keep Primary School, as much as the three of them disliked the idea.

Jon wrinkled his nose. “Don’t tell them I was the one to convince you.”

Daenerys’ eyebrow rose up even more. “Why? Are you scared you’ll stop being their lord and savior?”

He narrowed his eyes at her, an amused smile starting to show off. “Are you jealous?”

“Pf. Jealous? Why would I be jealous? Because I’m the bad guy and you’re always the hero these days?” She tried to keep a straight face, mocking offense, and even though the laugh coming out from his lips may have melted her away a bit, her fist lightly hit him on the chest. “I’m serious, Jon!” But she knew the amused smile breaking in gave her away. “They’re always throwing to my face that you wouldn’t do this or that or that they’re going to tell you how bad I was to ground them once they speak to you.”

“And you know I always tell them I am your side,” Dany snorted, knowing it to be true, but that only made it worse; he told them almost the same she did, yet they never complained about anything to him. “I’ll tell them I was the one to convince you into sending them to school.”

She rolled her eyes, already imagining their surprised faces but forgetting about it a minute later to ask him to play with them. “Yeah but that won’t make you stop being the cool d – ”

Her mouth closed shut as the smile fell from her lips to realize what she was about to say; Jon cocked his head in confusion, curiousness filling his gaze as he carefully watched her, expecting her to go on. But she couldn’t say it, not yet…

Daenerys didn’t know if they were ready for that – if _he_ was ready for that. She knew he loved her kids with all his heart and he’d been such a paternal figure for them so far… but she didn’t want to overstep and screw it up. They’d been dating for only five months and two weeks; maybe it was too soon… she didn’t want to scare him away.

But Jon kept staring at her, his eyes starting to pierce into her as he arched an eyebrow. “The cool what?”

Her phone started buzzing her on the nightstand behind her. She smiled to know she’d been saved, despite Jon rolling his eyes in annoyance to know she wouldn’t answer him any time soon – her hand reached out to take the phone, without even having to look back. She knew this cabin by heart by now, like she’d lived there for years.

Daenerys lowered her gaze to the screen to see that it was Arya. She answered, eyes fixing on Jon as settled herself back on her side.

“Hello?”

“ _Hey, Dany_ ,” the youngest Stark girl’s voice sounded on the other side. “ _I tried calling to Jon but he has his phone turned off, obviously, so I had to call you… are you two finished?_ ”

Dany couldn’t help the nervous chuckle coming right through her throat. “Excuse me?”

“ _Yeah, well. We’re out of ideas with your kids. We took them to the park, they got bored and wanted to go back home, Sansa didn’t want to go back just yet so we’re in the shopping now but they’re getting bored too, and I’m out of money for a few more ice creams._ ”

Daenerys had to put her on speaker, not wanting to confront this embarrassing moment alone. “Few more ice creams? How much ice cream have they had?”

There was a pause.

“ _Uh… one, or two? Maybe, just_ maybe _, three…_ ”

Jon shook his head. “Did you really give three ice creams to each six year old, Arya? You’re going to put up with their energy tonight.”

“ _Well if you just stopped being such lovebirds that wouldn’t have happened!_ ” Jon shrugged to her, as if admitting she had a point, but all Daenerys could concentrate was on a new kind of heat coming up from her neck to her face. “ _Are you or are you not done? Sansa will give us a tour throughout all Winterfell if you don’t tell us to come back._ ”

Daenerys gave a look to Jon, trusting he’d continue for her and so he did, holding back a smile to her reddened face. “Where is Sansa, anyway?”

“ _In the bookstore with Bran and Viserion – I am outside here with…_ ” there was another pause before she yelled. “ _Drogon, Rhaegal! Get down from there! Rickon, I told you to watch them!_ ”

“Alright, alright!” Daenerys found her voice again. “You can come back, we’ll be waiting here.”

“ _Thank god. See ya._ ”

Daenerys took a deep breath and ended the call, leaving her phone back on the nightstand, turning around to look back at Jon, who she _knew_ was trying to keep the laughter in and was ready to comment on her new coloring.

“Don’t even say it.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything about –”

“Don’t.”

“Okay, okay, but… if they’re in Winterfell’s only shopping, that means they’ll be here in about… ten or fifteen minutes?”

The humor was gone from his eyes as they darkened with new hunger, a cheeky smirk starting to spread on his face. She watched him reaching out to cup her cheek and bring her face closer to his.

Jon kept his gaze on her lips as he whispered, “Are you in for another round?”

Dany smirked. “What do you think?”

**I**

“We found them in the garage, Miss. Targaryen.”

Daenerys looked down at her children; the three boys had their heads down, knowing they were in trouble. She should have known better and have them with her the whole time, but they were three six years old and would get bored to death by listening to her conversations with business persons.

So she trusted Missandei and Sansa to help her keep an eye on them, but they must have lost sight of them for five minutes, which was all it took them to get in trouble.

They were in the party that Tyrion organized for her, in honor of her six months anniversary in the Seven Kingdoms; it wasn’t that big because he insisted in that they had to keep that for her one year anniversary, but there were enough important business men and women in the place.

Tyrion told her it wouldn’t be such good idea to bring her children to the party, but they’d insisted in wanting to come, even if Dany told them over and over again that it’d be boring for them.

Nothing was ever boring for her three boys – if something was, they’d make it fun somehow.

“What were you doing in the garage?”

Viserion was the first that dared to look up at her. “We were looking for something that we forgot in the car.”

“But the car is locked.”

Rhaegal shrugged. “We… forgot about that.”

Drogon sighed, a bit annoyed. “We’re sorry, but we needed to find it!”

“Find what?”

“The… video camera,” Rhaegal explained, playing with his hands in the front, almost unsure of his words. “To film everything for Jon because he couldn’t come.”

Daenerys sighed. She was well aware that Jon wasn’t there; the ten missed calls showing up on her phone’s screen kept reminding her. They hadn’t seen each other in not two, but _four_ weeks. A whole month.

She was busy in King’s Landing and had never a weekend free, for she had many ceremonies to attend from all the foundations she’d created or had associated the Company with. Jon couldn’t leave either; he’d been travelling inside the country to other states to make negotiations in the name of Winterfell and the North in the first three weekends.

When Dany thought that he’d finally make it to King’s Landing last weekend, he claimed that he had to stay in Winterfell because people from Scotland was coming. She understood, she _did_ , but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

That wasn’t the reason why she was ignoring his calls or the reason of their fight last night.

Jon said he’d be coming to the party in her honor on Saturday night, but called her last night telling her that he couldn’t be able to get there in time and Sansa would be going in his place to represent Winterfell, because there were a few details that the people from Scotland didn’t agree with at last minute and he had to travel to the country.

_“You’ve known of this party for three weeks by now, Jon!”_

_“Dany, I wish I could go – I truly do, but –”_

_“No, clearly you don’t, or else you’d do something else about it.”_

_“What else I can do? My uncle can’t leave Winterfell and these people won’t speak to anyone that isn’t me or him and we can’t lose the contract, I thought you’d understand…”_

_“Does it matter if I understand or not?”_

_“Of course it matters to me. I love you, you know I do, and I’m really sorry I can’t be there but please –”_

_“Please what, Jon? You don’t want me to be mad at you? This will be the first party in my honor in the Company and you’re not going to be there. And we haven’t seen each other in an entire month! Does that even matter for you?”_

_“Daenerys –”_

_“No. I can’t keep talking to you right now… just, good luck with your negotiations in Scotland. Bye.”_

She knew she had to end the call before the anger took over her and she’d start saying things she’d regret later. She’d turned her phone off last night and woke up to five missing calls from Jon, but she didn’t want to talk to him – she had many things to do that day.

His last call came in two hours ago but she decided to ignore it as well, for she didn’t want her night ruined and she knew that if she spoke to him, she’d be angrier or would end up crying.

“But we didn’t find it,” Drogon brought her back from her thoughts with his snort. “And it’s our car too, that man was treating us like we were bad people!”

Daenerys took a deep breath. “Because you’re not supposed to be in the garage. You’re supposed to be with me or Missandei, do you understand?”

The three kids glanced at each other for a moment before nodding their heads. “Yes mama.”

“Good,” she bent down to their height as much as she could in her high heels and fixed Rhaegal’s hair, Viserion’s blazer and tucked Drogon’s white shirt inside his black jeans. “Now I know this is getting boring for you three, but you’ll have to hold on a bit more and then you can go home with Missy.”

“What?” Viserion titled his head. “What about you?”

“I have to stay a bit longer.”

Rhaegal let out a much dramatic sigh. “Okay. But can you take us to the garden? Did you see the big water fountain it has?! Can we go, pretty please?”

“Pleaaaaaaase,” his brothers begged along with their most angelical faces.

Daenerys looked around and found Tyrion speaking to an old man. His eyes drifted from her kids to her before he gave her a small smile and a thumb up behind his back. He had the situation controlled, which meant she could take them – just for a moment – to whenever they wanted to go.

“Okay, but just five minutes.”

Rhaegal and Drogon ran off towards the place’s garden as Viserion walked along with her, taking her hand. She was relieved that no one stopped her midway to speak to her and instead let her walk through them to get outside. The place looked like a royal palace and it was known for hosting big events; she was delighted when Tyrion showed it to her.

Dany’s purple eyes widened to see the big water fountain more clearly. She’d been outside before everyone arrived, but the garden’s lights weren’t turned on then, now they were and it looked even more beautiful with the contrast it caused by the dark sky above them.

“It’s so pretty!” Viserion commented next to her.

“Yes it is,” she walked further into the garden and admired the water fountain from up close as Viserion held out his hand to touch the water. She remembered the one in King’s Landing’s central park, which she met in her first weekend in the city, with Jon joking that they had to throw a coin and make a wish. Perhaps she should call him – he’d arrive tomorrow and she didn’t want them to be distanced after being a month apart. She looked down to feel her arm being poked. “What is it, sweetling?”

“This water fountain doesn’t have coins like the one in the park,” her lips curved into a smile to know her son had the same memory. “But we should make a wish anyway. Do you have a coin?”

“I’m afraid not.”

Viserion sighed and narrowed his bright, golden eyes. “… but we can still make a wish. What would you wish for, mama?”

_For Jon to be here_ , was her first thought. She sighed slightly but managed to smile at the blonde child, trying to think in another wish less melancholic for a six year old, hearing to only the crickets echoing in the place… which made her frown. It was so quiet…

Daenerys moved her head up and looked around, “Where are your brothers?”

“I think they went to the dark part.”

_God help her with these kids._

She took Viserion’s hand and headed towards the dark part of the garden, where the lights weren’t turned on and all was shadows to the point she had to narrow her eyes to try to catch sight of the two boys running around.

“Rhaegal, Drogon! Come back here!”

“Mama, we found something here!” Rhaegal yelled in the distance. “Come and see!”

“Boys, the lights are off there for a reason, come back here _now_!”

“But you have to see this!”

Daenerys knew they wouldn’t come back until she saw whatever they’d found. She took part of her large, purple dress with her free hand and followed the boys’ voices, being sure to not lose hold of the remaining child next to her.

The further she walked, the farer away the lights behind her seemed to be… how big was this garden?

“Drogon? Rhaegal?”

“Mama, I think they’re over there!”

“Whe –” she didn’t have time to finish her question that she felt Viserion’s hand slipping away from hers. “Viserion, don’t let go of my hand!” She looked down to her side to see that the blonde boy was gone. “Viserion! Boys! Where are you? This isn’t funny; you need to get back here right –”

The place was suddenly illuminated by net lights all over the shrubbery that were placed on the sides of the garden’s green path. Daenerys spun around towards the entrance, and she could see Sansa with her hand up in the light switch on the wall in the distance; she was confused to see the girl’s smile, but heard a throat clearing behind her that distracted her enough to look forward again.

There were her three boys… and three more Starks.

Viserion, Rhaegal, Drogon, Rickon, Bran and Arya stood a few meters from her, holding white signs in their hands with each word;

**_I’m sorry, will you forgive me_ **

Ghost walked next to Arya, a sign with a huge “ ** _?_** _”_ , hanging from his dog collar.

“You weren’t answering my calls,” Jon’s voice said from behind her, making her jump slightly to see him appearing at her side, black curls on the sides of his face, grin on place and hands folded in front of his black suit. “I figured you were pretty mad and had to think of some –” Daenerys didn’t let him finish that she crashed against him in a tight hug, even making him stumble a bit as he wrapped his arms around her, hearing his soft chuckle on her ear. “I take that’s a yes?”

“You came,” she whispered against his shoulder, already feeling the tears stinging in her eyes, making her close them for a moment to try to keep them inside. She moved away from him, cupping his face with her hands. “But how? Did you really cancel the flight because of this?”

“I don’t think we have to put the signs down just yet…” Arya spoke up, followed by her children’s giggles.

Jon became tense in a second, his throat showing how hard he gulped as he pursed his lips, something he did every time he was about to confess something.

“Yeah, uh… about that… I never had to… travel to Scotland… that was a small lie.”

“What?” Daenerys blinked, hands falling from his face. “Small… lie?” A new confusion and anger slowly filled her in. “Why would you lie about that?”

“It was for a good cause, trust me,” he took quickly her hands between his and held on to them. “You see… the fact that we haven’t seen each other in a month _does_ matter to me. I’ve been miserable all these weeks… I missed you, I missed the boys, and I was angry that I couldn’t be with you, that it hurt you as well, that it hurt them… I didn’t understand why we couldn’t be together like we wanted to. And then I realized that, deep down, it was because I didn’t want to leave my family, because that’s where I belong… with my family,” she noticed the change in his voice, something that could be barely distinguishable for other people, but she recognized the way it became deeper with emotion, for he had to stay silent a moment to recover. She thought she knew where this was going; he wanted to tell her he’d be moving in with her, but that wasn’t necessary. She did not want him to leave his family, the most precious thing in the world for him. She’d never ask that of him. Daenerys opened her mouth to tell him so, but he kept on. “My brothers and sisters are my family. I’ll always belong with them… but the thing is that _you_ are my family too, Daenerys,” that made her put together her lips to maintain the silence, feeling the water coming back to her eyes and the lump starting to form in her throat. “I want to be there for you, to wake up with you by my side, to love and raise your children with you. I love you, Dany, more than anything… sometimes I can’t believe I’m this… lucky to have you, and I can’t spend any more time away from you. I want to spend the rest of my days with you, not just the weekends…” he let go of her hands to bend on one knee in front of her, his hand pulling something from the pocket of his black blazer, showing it to be a very small box. “That’s why I need to ask you…” he opened the box to reveal a ring with a little blue diamond on it before taking a deep breath. “Daenerys Targaryen. Will you marry me?”

Daenerys’ mouth parted in surprise and just stared at him with shocked purple eyes, as much as she could with her vision starting to get blurry by the tears. She could have never imagined Jon was going to do this.

She wanted to tell him she loved him more than anything, that _she_ was the luckiest woman alive to have him choosing her every day; he was too good for her, no one would ever convince her otherwise.

There weren’t even the crickets sounding – nothing could be heard in the place, as if everything and everyone had stopped for this moment.

Daenerys took him from the collar of his neck and pulled him towards her, her hands moving up to place themselves on his face, being sure to have him close and stare right into his dark, grey eyes, her lips drawing in a smile as she whispered;

“Yes. I will marry you, Jon Snow.”

Jon’s wide smile breaking in on his face as he took her hand to place the gorgeous ring on her finger was enough to swell her heart even more. She hadn’t seen it from up close in so long… than instead of kept admiring it, she couldn’t help but crash her lips into his, melting into the warmth of his breath and the way his hands brought her closer to him, deepening into their much awaited and needed kiss and the shared feeling of happiness overtaking them.

The silence around them broke when the Targaryen and Stark children started cheering, clapping and even whistling. She could hear her boys’ excited voices yelling, _‘she said yes, she said yes!’_ before she started feeling little hands pulling from her dress to get her attention, and as she broke apart from Jon, opening her eyes to find his amused smirk, she knew his attention was required as well.

She scooped Drogon up in her arms as Jon easily lifted Rhaegal and Viserion off the ground with each arm.

“We knew you’d say yes but we were so nervous!” Rhaegal confessed between his giggles.

Dany smiled to see Rickon walking up to her, her free arm reaching out to wrap around his shoulders, holding him close to her. “Thank you,” she kissed the top of his head as her gaze moved past him, towards Arya pushing her brother’s wheelchair towards them. “For this surprise… I would have never imagined it.”

“Well,” the Stark girl shrugged. “Jon was panicking because you weren’t answering his calls and realized a bit too late that his idea to tell you he wasn’t coming wasn’t one of his best ideas.”

“I told him you wouldn’t resist in forgiving him if we made the signs and we showed it to you as surprise… the boys included,” Rickon proudly told her as Dany arched an eyebrow to Jon’s way, gaining a shrug and innocent puppy eyes from him. “The lights on the shrubbery were Sansa’s idea but the garden was Bran’s.”

Daenerys was a bit surprised at that as she gazed down to the other black-haired Stark; she knew he’d progressed in showing more interest in the world around him ever since Jon convinced his uncle and sisters to take him to a psychiatrist that got him on pills that started changing his life. Jon was always happy to tell her that he reminded him more of the Bran he used to know with each passing day, but she had to admit the idea that he was involved in this beautiful surprise took her back.

“I think the garden’s idea was truly lovely.”

“I know it was better than to do it in front of everyone inside there,” Bran merely shrugged, but she could see the hint of a smile wanting to curve the corner of his lip.

“I, for once, made the signs,” Arya tried to sound casual.

“Yeah,” Rickon laughed. “Big job.”

“It was a big job for her,” Jon stepped in to defend his sister, as always. “Look at that pretty handwriting.”

Arya rolled her eyes. “It’s not pretty.”

Daenerys smiled at the way brother and sister shared a knowing look, which told her that there was much more than Arya’s pretty handwriting. She knew their strong bond enough to imagine that if there was someone that could convince Jon in that living apart from his siblings didn’t make him a bad brother and didn’t mean he loved them any less, that was Arya.

“And you three…” she looked at her three sons and frowned in amusement. “There was no such thing as wanting to see the pretty big water fountain, was it?”

“We didn’t mean to lie, but we had to keep it a secret!” Viserion carefully explained, eyes drifting to Jon, seeking for his help.

“It’s true,” Jon nodded and smiled at the grins that appeared on each boy’s face, proud of their part in the surprise. “They knew about it since this morning… and they knew there would be no way to get you to here if you weren’t following them.”

“And we weren’t doing anything bad in the garage!” Drogon held up his hand in defense. “We just met them to have everything planned.”

“You really thought Missandei and I would have them off of our sight in such party?” Sansa’s voice reached her ears. She turned to watch the redhead girl taking the last steps to be close to them, a playful light in her blue eyes. “We knew where they were, but we had to have their backs.”

“So.” Daenerys glanced at her children and all the Starks around her, eyes settling on the oldest one. “Everyone knew of this, but me.”

“Not everyone,” Jon gave her one of his half grin that could only bring one of her own to her lips – and he knew it. “Just us. And Missandei. And Tyrion.”

“But you liked it, right, mama?” Rhaegal’s dark green eyes shone with hope.

She felt much more than liking or even loving it. The only thought that they had all planned this for her, to help Jon propose to her… made her emotional to the point she could feel the tears starting to gather up back in her eyes. She had to clear her throat and take her moment to answer, knowing her voice would betray her otherwise.

“Yes, sweetling. I loved it… very much.”

Jon must have sensed her emotions were about to take over her, for he stepped closer to her and placed a kiss on her temple, smiling softly to her as her watery purple eyes looked up at him.

“We’re a family now, right?” Rhaegal quietly but happily asked between them. “It’s official.”

Drogon frowned in confusion. “Won’t it be official when they’re married?”

“No, it doesn’t have to be,” Jon answered him, but didn’t move his eyes off of her. “We’ve been a family for a long time by now. We don’t need titles for that.”

_Family_.

Soon Sansa and Arya would be her sisters-in-law and Rickon and Bran her brothers-in-law, but Jon was right… they didn’t need the titles to feel as a family. She remembered Arya’s cold gaze the first time she met her, Sansa’s piercing, icily-like blue eyes every time they settled on her, waiting for her to betray them, and now a week didn’t go by that she didn’t text or call the girls to catch up with them – as much as Arya tried to sound casual about it, Jon had told her it meant a lot to her whenever she’d specifically call her to know how she was doing. Sansa didn’t tell him anything, but he knew how good it was for his sister to have her as a friend, given she had almost none after getting back to Winterfell because she didn’t feel ready to open up just yet.

She remembered Bran barely paying attention to her, only speaking to her a week later after meeting her, and not a week ago when she called Jon through FaceTime he was with Bran in a coffee shop after his appointment with the doctor and he even told her himself how the appointment went, which surprised both of them. In such a good way.

And Rickon… he’d been such a charming kid to her since day 1. She adored him as much as he adored her; he wasn’t like a little brother but more than that. He was still so young and deserved to spend what was rest of his childhood as normal as possible after much suffering and she intended to help Jon and his family in doing that. She’d do anything to protect him… sometimes feeling like a second mother to him.

“Let’s go see the water fountain!” Rickon suddenly exclaimed, to which her boys nodded enthusiastically. “Before we have to get inside that boring party.”

“As boring as it is,” Jon raised an eyebrow, putting Rhaegal and Viserion down as she did the same with Drogon. “You will all behave, won’t you?”

His brother let out an exasperated sigh. “Yeah… but just because it’s important for Dany,” he quickly said before running off with her three children laughing right after him.

“What? I didn’t get the last part!”

Sansa nodded towards her younger brother and sister. “We’ll make sure of that.”

“Yep,” Arya said putting together the signs on Bran’s lap. “And we’re going to film it if something happens.”

Daenerys chuckled to see Sansa rolling her eyes at her sister, watching as Arya stepped on the back of Bran’s wheelchair and let her brother carry her away on his electronic seat.

A glimpse of white fur at her feet caught Daenerys’ attention.

Bright red eyes looked up at her as the white wolf titled his head, the sign still hanging from his dog collar moving along with him.

Dany smiled and bent down to take it from him, rubbing behind his ear and the top of his head. “Thanks to you too, Ghost. Nothing of this would have happened without you.”

“Thank god he decided to ignore my orders to stay close to me in that park that day,” Jon commented, bending down next to her, hand reaching out to pet his wolf on the head.

“And as awful as it was for those long, horrible minutes, thank god Rhaegal decided to follow him,” the brief memory of her son’s fascination with the white beast came to her mind. “And that he’s a stubborn child that won’t give up when he wants something.”

Jon chuckled, his hand moved from Ghost’s head to hers, fingers holding on to hers as he helped her stand up. “Well, I’m sure he got it from someone…”

Daenerys kept her gaze on their hands, the little blue diamond calling for her attention, but not just because of how beautiful it was, but because what it meant. She looked back at Jon and smiled to see a known light and softness in his eyes, always reserved for her.

“You liked it?”

“It’s beautiful. All this was… beautiful,” she closed her eyes to feel his kiss against the tip of her nose. “Thank you, Jon. For this… for choosing to leave the North and your family… to be with me.”

“Dany,” he put a finger under her chin to lift her head up, to look directly into her purple eyes as he moved a silver lock behind her ear. “You are my family. I’m not leaving them – I am going to visit them every weekend and as much as they want to, but I _know_ I can’t be away from you any longer. I missed you, every day, every moment of it; I couldn’t even concentrate on what I was doing in the last week because of it. And I know it’s been hard for you, too. It’s not healthy for any of us. I don’t want that for us. I love my brothers and sisters with all my heart, but they’ll grow up one day and have their own families, too. It’s my time to do that. With you and the boys. I didn’t want to wait anymore for that.”

“You already did that,” god damn the tears that kept coming back to her eyes. She swallowed and smiled slightly to see a bit of confusion on his face. “You said it yourself; we’ve been family for a long time by now. You welcomed me into your family… your sisters and brothers made me and my children feel like family too. I never had a family before, Jon, not really; not until I had my three boys. They were all I had then. But now it’s much more than that. And I can be sure that they’ll have much more than just me, too. And I can never thank you enough for that.”

Jon sighed with a small smile settling in, taking her face between his hands, his thumbs gently stroking her skin as he rested his forehead against hers. “You truly are magical, Daenerys Targaryen.”

Daenerys didn’t stop the tears from falling this time, instead let him wipe them away with his fingers before he leant down and caught her lips between his full ones, tasting the salt on them. She opened her eyes to find teardrops slipping down on his cheeks, which made her sigh and shake her head slightly, a smile tugging on her lips.

“I love you, Jon Snow.”

He grinned. “At all times?”

“At all times.”

Daenerys moved closer to him, never having enough of him, much less with the month they had yet to recover – but as their lips brushed slightly, a splash of water was heard in the distance, making them jump.

“Boys!” Sansa screamed, the horror showing through her voice. “What on earth are you doing?!”

They both stared at each other with knowing eyes, but it was Jon who arched an eyebrow first, “Ready?”

Daenerys sighed loudly, but couldn’t help but smile, for nothing could ruin this night – no matter how much wet her sons’ clothes were getting. She’d scold them a bit at first but would let them have their fun. They deserved it. They all did.

“Are we ever?”

Jon nodded to her with a brief smirk and offered her his arm before she held on to it as they walked up to the water fountain.


	27. the Dragon-Wolf mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _how much can take a last chapter to write? we may never know... gosh, it was hard to write this, i wanted it to be perfect and i failed miserably but i still hope you like it folks!_
> 
> _i wanted to thank every one of you that has gotten in this ride with me! thanks to everyone that read this story and took their time to comment or leave kudos or bookmarks, they've all made me incredibly happy all through it!_
> 
> _sad to see it end, but like i said, it's not over for this universe, not at all. i've got many ideas to come for them, it'd be like one-shots (maybe two shots if the plot requires it) of their upcoming events as family, what do you say?_
> 
> _now i'll leave you to the last part of the Targaryen-Stark team's mission, i truly hope you like it :)_

* * *

* * *

“Papa!”

Jon finished putting on Drogon’s black suspenders and turned his head to the boy calling out for him behind them; it’d been only a week since he started bearing the most precious title he’d ever get and it amazed him how he never got tired of hearing over and over again.

_Papa._

“I can’t do this,” Rhaegal kept on, his nose and forehead winkling in frustration as his little hands stubbornly place on his suspenders in vain. “Do we have to wear it?”

Jon smiled at the boy’s determination to get it done himself, not wanting to wait for his turn. Viserion was the only one all finished, already gone to his mother because he claimed he could _not_ wait to see how pretty she was getting.

“Yes, you have to. I told you to wait for me.” He patiently told him, helping Drogon get on his jacket and fixing his black hair to the side once he turned back to him. “There. All finished.”

The child’s orange eyes lit up as smiled, sticking out his tongue in the space where his top two front baby teeth used to be. “I look like you now!”

“You don’t have long hair like him,” Rhaegal bitterly said behind them. Jon turned to him to give him a look as the boy shrugged in innocence. “It’s the truth!”

“But I have black hair like him.” Drogon stuck out his tongue to him and crossed his arms over his chest, frown starting to draw in between his dark eyebrows. “You do not.”

Before something even bitterer could come out from Rhaegal’s mouth, Jon spoke up. “You both have something in common with me, there’s no need to fight. You promised to your mother there would be no fights today, remember?”

Both six years old boys looked at each other for a few seconds before sighing in synchronization and nodding their heads.

“Can I go to mama now, papa?”

“Yes of course,” he bent down in front of him and tapped his shoulders, seeing how nervous the boy suddenly got since he’d next see him walking down his mother in the aisle. “Everything’s going to be just fine. No need to be nervous. You’ll be with your mother, okay?”

“Yeah…” Drogon gulped and let out a long sigh. “But what if I trip and fall and I ruin everything?!”

Jon wanted to chuckle at his nervousness, given he was the one out of the three that always managed to keep it cool in front of everyone, but knew he shouldn’t and instead shook his head to him.

“You won’t ruin anything because you won’t fall. If you want to, you can watch your steps so you’ll be sure nothing will happen. But you practiced a lot with your mama, right? And you never fell.”

The black haired child took a deep breath and nodded, giving him a half-grin. Jon smiled and took him in a quick but tight hug, being sure to place a kiss on the top of his head before standing up and glancing over his shoulder to the only other person in the room besides him and the two children; the eleven year old boy resting his back on the wall and playing on his phone.

“Rickon, will you walk him to the cabin?”

“Sure.”

Jon rolled his eyes to see him walking to the door with his eyes fixed on the little thing between his hands. “Turn that off, Rickon, you’ve played enough.”

Rickon sighed loudly and dramatically before saving his phone on the pocket of his pants. Damned the day that their uncle got him a phone… at least he put his hand on Drogon’s shoulder and started talking to him as they walked out of the room.

“Why is Rickon always on the phone now? He looks like a zombie sometimes.”

Jon chuckled and walked over to the child, kneeling in front of him to start placing on the suspenders from his pants, knowing that as much as he wished otherwise, there was going to be a time when the three little boys that were always around him these days would grow up into preteens and start thinking that he and their mother weren’t so cool after all.

“He does.”

“I really like you’re our papa, papa,” Rhaegal suddenly said, taking him back a bit. He frowned slightly after a moment, green eyes focusing on him. “Because we _are_ your sons. Right?”

Jon looked back at him and nodded in determination to see his insecurity about it. “You are.”

He went from having none to having three beautiful sons. Jon still remembered how nervous he’d been to propose that to Daenerys; he’d been more nervous about it than the day he asked her to marry him… because he knew how important her children were for her. They weren’t a topic that could ever be messed with and he didn’t want to screw it up, thinking that maybe she was going to believe he’d crossed the line.

A month had passed since he proposed to her and two weeks since he’d told her he wanted to adopt her kids once they were married. He remembered it perfectly; it was Sunday morning, they were back in Winterfell for the weekend and it was a lovely morning for them since the boys stayed the night in Rickon’s room.

_“I was… thinking… that maybe, if you want to – just if you want to, you can always say no and I won’t be mad, I understand if you want to say no, I don’t want you to feel forced to say yes because –”_

_“Jon. What is it?”_

She’d giggled at his hands playing together, the frown settling in on his face and the way he swallowed every two seconds. He would have laughed too, but the nervousness was too much for it.

_“After we get married, I would want to… adopt the boys. If that’s what you want, too.”_

Jon had never seen Daenerys so astonished – purple eyes wide as ever, lips slightly parted… she didn’t blink, didn’t even breathe for seconds that lasted like long minutes for him. He was starting to grow worried that she’d misunderstood his words and was indeed going to reject his idea – but then her eyes watered, her face broke in a huge smile and her hands reached out to hug him tight, telling him over and over again how much she loved him.

They wouldn’t have the adoption papers for months, but it was official for them now.

“I always knew you were going to be our daddy someday.”

Jon stopped combing his bronze hair, more rebel now more than ever that he let it grow to the past his ears, wanting to have it like his. It’d always take him back whenever any of the boys would throw sweet and innocent comments like that, not even realizing how much impact could have that on him. He’d been caring for them like they were his own for quite a time, but his heart swelled to have them calling ‘ _papa_ ’ or ‘ _daddy_ ’, how Viserion loved to call him most of time.

“You did?”

Rhaegal nodded excitedly. “Yep! Arya tried to tell us that we were wrong but we weren’t. We told her so when we told her that you were our papa now.”

All his siblings had been delighted when he and Daenerys told them the news, but nothing would ever top the surprise mixed with happiness on the three kids’ faces when they decided to tell them a week ago. They didn’t want to wait any longer and he had to admit that he wanted to know what they thought about it; as young as they were, they had the right to have a say on it if they didn’t want that to happen.

_“What is it? Did something bad happen?”_

_“Is the wedding cancelled?!” Viserion asked in horror._

_“No, nothing of that,” Daenerys told them with a smile, much less nervous about telling them than him. He was as tense as never, looking back and forth to every one of their little, chubby faces. “Jon wants to tell you something.”_

_“Ask,” he kindly corrected her. Daenerys arched an eyebrow to him and placed her hands on top of his as he took a deep breath to look back at the boys. “I want to ask you something… I want to know what you three think about it.”_

_Drogon raised an eyebrow suspiciously. “About what?”_

_“Well… uh, I wanted to ask you… if after the wedding, you’d… like me to… adopt you three.”_

_Both Daenerys and Jon held their breath, waiting for their response, but the boys kept staring at them as if they were waiting for some more explanation. Viserion was the one that titled his head in confusion._

_“What is adopt?”_

_“Oh,” Daenerys sighed in relief for a moment, narrowing her eyes probably to try to find the right words. “If Jon adopts you… it means he’ll officially be your father.”_

_That changed something. Their eyes grew wild as they stared at each other in disbelief, mouth dropping open but forming surprised smiles all the same._

_“That means…” Rhaegal dared to start asking, eyes shining with happiness. “We can call you papa? You’ll be our real, **real** papa?”_

_It was their turn to hold their breath, waiting for his response. He felt the tears starting to gather in his eyes, the lump forming in his throat to know he had to keep it together, fearing his voice would crack if he said something else than a;_

_“Yeah.”_

_“YAAAAY!”_

_The three boys threw themselves onto him, their father, as Jon did his best to wrap his arms around all three of them, watching over their heads the tears running down Daenerys’ face, even if she kept that ‘I told you so’ look._

“Are you nervous, papa?”

Jon came back from his thought to see his big, green eyes watching him carefully. He smiled at him and stood up, making the boy turn around to see their reflections on the mirror in front of them. It was pretty adorable how alike their suits looked, with the only difference being that he was wearing a tie meanwhile the boys wore a bowtie.

“A little bit,” he confessed to him, recognizing the relief in the six year old’s eyes at his words. “Are you?”

Rhaegal shook his head from side to side, as if he was trying to convince himself. “Nope. I just have to hold one ring. It’s okay.”

Jon frowned slightly, knowing that was true, but the boy was indeed nervous about that. It’d surprised both him and Daenerys that Rhaegal didn’t protest when Viserion offered to be the ring bearer, and it surprised them even more when they wanted both Drogon and Rhaegal to walk down the aisle with Daenerys, to have them be part of the wedding as much as their brother, but the bronze haired boy didn’t want to and left the job only to his oldest brother, saying he’d be contest enough with taking the rings along with Viserion.

It was strange, and something told Jon that there was more to it, but Rhaegal didn’t show any sign of jealousy of his brothers or that he had something up.

“I can’t wait to see mama! She must be getting so, so pretty!”

Jon let out a short laugh, his dark eyes moving past to the window of the room; his uncle’s room. The Stark mansion was reserved for the boys and the cabin for the girls – he was dying to see how beautiful Daenerys had to look in her wedding dress, but as much as he wanted to run off to the small house that had become such a home for them, he knew she’d kill him if he settled his eyes on her before meeting him at the Godswood.

He was so grateful that Daenerys agreed to have the wedding ceremony there, following many of his Stark ancestors’ tradition of marrying in the place that was considered sacred for the Northerners – every important town had one in the North and took care of it like it was the most precious thing they had.

Winterfell’s Godswood was no different; it was placed in a reserved part of the forest, almost being taken care like a natural reserve even if it didn’t hold such title, since it wasn’t restricted to people – it was a public place, but everyone in Winterfell knew the special meaning it had and therefore they used the place for special occasions. Tales kept being told to this day that even when Brandon ‘the Builder’, the one that first arrived to Westeros and started carrying on the Stark name, arrived to start building Winterfell the Godswood was already there – some people said that Godswoods have a special bond to the Old Gods, others said that it belonged to the First Men, the native people of Westeros and it had to be respected as such.

 “Ghost!” Jon blinked and watched Rhaegal running up to the semi opened door, the white beast calmly walking through it and being met halfway with the little boy’s arms encircling his neck to hug him tight. He opened his mouth to tell the boy to watch his clothes, but didn’t have the heart to say a word as Rhaegal buried his face in Ghost’s white fur. “Are you happy too, Ghost? Mama and papa are getting married!”

Ghost licked the child’s cheek as Rhaegal giggled. “I think that’s a yes,” Jon walked over to them and bent down, petting his wolf’s head. Sometimes Ghost was more the boys’ than his these days and he wouldn’t have it other way. The wolf had adjusted very well to King’s Landing, enjoying its forest as much as he could in the sunlight and always coming back to sleep in the Targaryen children’s room at the end of the day. But Ghost was of the North and Jon could feel him enjoying it much more here. “Do you remember the first time you saw Ghost, Rhaegal?”

Rhaegal nodded. “He was the prettiest white dog I’ve ever seen!” Jon’s lips curved to the side, loving the innocence of the boys that kept thinking Ghost was just a huge dog. “That’s why I followed him. I’m glad I followed him. If I didn’t, maybe I didn’t meet you. Or you didn’t meet mama. I wouldn’t have liked that.”

Jon didn’t want to think of all the possibilities that could have come out from Rhaegal never meeting Ghost – he couldn’t imagine a happy life without Daenerys and their boys, that was off the list, and now he was going to officially have that forever.

He matched his son’s bright smile and nodded. “Me neither.”

**I**

“Mama!”

Daenerys turned around to see Viserion walking slowly to her, with his hands on his back, a shyness crossing over his features. She narrowed her eyes; lips tugging in a small grin to imagine he must had a surprise for her.

“I’ve got a gift for you.”

She took part of her wedding gown and met him halfway the room, being grateful that she still didn’t put on the high heels that were waiting for her in the box. Dany bent down, enjoying her son’s giggle to see the way her gown took over a large space.

“You look like a princess, mama,” his golden eyes widened in surprise as he shook his head. “Not a princess, a queen.”

“And you look very handsome, my little dragon,” she tickled his chin, making him squeal lightly. “Papa really did his job very well, didn’t he?”

The blonde child gave her a firm nod. “He dressed me first because he knew I’d be very still!”

Daenerys’ eyes moved down, to his feet, seeing how he kept swinging back and forth on them. “So. You wanted to give me something?”

“Right!” His little hands moved forward, showing her a dark red box. She frowned and took the cover from it; she could feel her mouth slightly dropping and the way her eyes must have grown big. “Auntie Sansa helped me make it and I picked the flowers. Do you like it?”

“Oh, sweetheart…” Daenerys whispered as she took the object from it, admiring the little white flowers that made a beautiful, large crown. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”

Viserion smiled brightly and came in closer for a hug, which she gave with pleasure, her gaze moving up to see the redhead Stark girl walking in the room and understanding why she was insistent in not putting anything in her head as ornament. She mouthed a ‘thank you’, receiving a nod and small smile from her soon to be sister-in-law.

“Let’s put it on, shall we?”

Her child nodded enthusiastically as she stood up and walked towards the mirror against the corner – she started placing the crown of flowers on her head, Sansa coming up behind her to keep placing them in the back of it and Viserion staying right at her side, watching with delight as she used his gift.

Once they were finished, she moved her head to the side to view how pretty the little flowers decorated her long, blonde-silver hair. Tears started to slowly gather up in her eyes, taking in the beauty of the dress, the light makeup she had on and the flowers adorning her head.

“Don’t cry yet,” Sansa’s voice begged her over her shoulder, making her chuckle to see such concern in her face, fearing for her makeup.

“Cry?” Viserion asked in confusion, titling his head. “Why are you sad, mama?”

“I’m not sad, baby,” she explained to him, bringing a hand to his much fixed hair. “I’m very happy. People also cry when they’re really, really, happy…”

“Ah…” the boy put a hand under his chin, something taking over his mind. “Like daddy when you told us he was going to adopt us, even if he didn’t admit he was crying?”

Daenerys nodded, remembering Jon’s emotional eyes when the boys hugged him tight after learning he was going to be officially be their papa, and the actual tears once the boys left to go tell everyone in the house that now Jon was their papa – she’d cried with him as they held each other, knowing that was what they’d always wanted.

“Exactly.”

“Woow Dany,” Rickon’s voice reached her ears, which made her turn to see him standing in the doorway with her tallest son, who had his mouth dropped open and orange eyes wide as ever. “You look amazing.”

“Why thank you, Rickon, I can say the same about you.”

“Right?” the youngest Stark boasted, taking part of his suit and nodding. “It looks good.”

Sansa rolled her eyes and walked over to her brother. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Jon?”

“I was, but he told me to walk Drogon to here,” the eleven year old nodded to Viserion. “Ready to go? I heard Sam saying the cars should be here at any moment.”

“Yep!” Viserion turned to her and hugged her legs. “I’ll see you there, mama! Rhaegal and I’ll be the best ring bearers ever!”

“I’m sure you will, sweetling,” she moved his head up and kissed him softly on the top of his nose, smiling to his giggle as he moved away and walked over to Rickon. “Please tell Rhaegal to come before they go? I want to see him too.”

Rickon nodded to her and wrapped an arm around the blonde boy before walking away with him. Daenerys lowered her gaze to Drogon, watching as he kept tugging at the collar of his white shirt, deeply frowning.

“You look adorable, sweetheart, don’t do that,” she took his hand from his shirt and combed his hair to the side, smiling at how adorable he looked in his white shirt and black suspenders. “You’re so cute.”

She placed a big kiss on his cheek, laughing slightly at the way he moved away from her, doing a grimace all the way. “I’m not cute mama,” he complained, getting his hand back on the collar of his shirt. “And it itches! When can we go to the wedding?”

“Your father has to leave first,” she cleaned the bit of lipstick she left on his check and moved back to the mirror, realizing how used she’d grown to referring to Jon as ‘papa’ or ‘father’ when talking to her– _their_ children. It’d taken her back when he told her he wanted to adopt them, for she knew how much he loved them, but she would have never thought he wanted to do it so fast. She’d dreamed with him adopting her boys, but she thought that that would come after years of marriage… but it was a fact that Jon never stopped amazing her. “Then we can leave.”

Daenerys watched through the mirror as Sansa picked up her phone and started walking out the room; she admired the way the oldest Stark girl was always ready to take care of things and didn’t want her to worry about anything. She wasn’t concerned in the slightest, knowing Sansa, Sam, Missandei and Tyrion had everything in control here and in the Godswood. She couldn’t wait to get there to see how beautiful the decoration had come up.

“Mama, are you happy?”

Her eyebrows came in together to have such question coming from Drogon; she turned to look at him and see his eyes curiously watching her, waiting for her reply. She nodded and offered him a smile.

“I am. Are you?”

Her son nodded quickly, standing on his feet on the bed. “Yes. But I’m sorry I didn’t want papa to be your boyfriend at first. I always thought he was a bit cool, but I’m sorry. Maybe if I liked him earlier, I could have been part of the mission.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she took his little hands in hers and squeezed them. “You don’t have to apologize for anything. And it doesn’t matter to me if you were part of the mission or not, what matters to me is that you love Jon and Jon loves you. That’s all.”

“Yes. He’s the best papa…” he narrowed his eyes and cocked his head. “Is it bad I don’t want to say that Drogo is my papa anymore? Because I love Jon, not Drogo.”

Daenerys let out a long, relief breath. It’d been she the one who put Drogo in that place before when the boys needed _someone_ to know that was their father, but she’d feared that Drogon would never put him aside to give that title to the man that truly earned it – it was Jon the one that tucked them at night, the one that was there to wake them up, the one that put up with their tantrums, the one that spoiled them; it was Jon who was there every day to love them, not Drogo.

She was so happy that her boys had the loving and caring father they deserved and didn’t have to live yearning for him.

“It’s not bad at all,” Dany shook her head to him and caressed his cheek gently. “Jon is the one that is there for you no matter what. He’s your papa, no one else.”

Drogon smiled in relief and nodded.

 “You were part of the mission.”

Daenerys looked past Drogon, to Rhaegal walking in the room and jumping on the bed to walk on it – she contained herself from telling them no shoes on there, but she could let it pass just for this time and instead stayed silent to hear more about what her other child had to say.

“One of the plans of the mission was to get mama and papa to spend time together. You did that. Another one was to get mama and papa to marry… and you were there when he proposed to her. So you were part of the mission too.”

Drogon’s orange eyes widened, eyebrows raising up. “Really?”

Rhaegal nodded. “Sorry I didn’t want to tell you. I thought you were going to hate it.”

Drogon shrugged. “I hated it at first. But even when I hated it I promised I wouldn’t say anything and I kept my promise, right?”

Rhaegal smiled. “Right.”

Daenerys’ heart beat with happiness to see her two boys smiling at each other instead of rolling their eyes at the other or being so ready to engage in a fight… brothers. No matter what any silly fight they could get themselves into, they were always going to be there for each other.

“I’m going to look for auntie Sansa!” Drogon jumped from the bed to the ground. “And tell her I’ve always been part of the mission after all!”

Dany smiled to see him running out so fast to want to tell the news as Rhaegal rolled his eyes but in a light way.

“Thank you for that, sweetling,” the bronze haired boy looked back at her with a bit of confusion. “He wanted to know he was part of your so famous mission.”

Rhaegal shrugged it off, as if he was going to say the most obvious thing. “He’s my brother. Even if he’s mean sometimes.”

“… getting us to marry each other was still part of your mission? Even after we got together?”

Her son looked almost offended. “Of course. The mission is almost complete.”

Daenerys arched an eyebrow. “Almost?”

“You’re not married yet, remember? It’ll be truly accomplished when you are. But…” he winkled his nose in that way he’d always do whenever he got curious. “We had to take out a plan, because Rickon told us that was off our hands but we didn’t understand so he said we should ask papa about that later. But maybe you can tell me? I won’t tell anyone, I promise!”

“What is that?”

“Where do babies come from?”

A laugh came out from her lips as soon as the boy finished his question. It made him frown and stare at her in confusion, but she couldn’t help it to imagine them asking such thing to Jon – she wouldn’t miss that for anything in the world.

“No. Let your father answer you that,” Rhaegal sighed displeased as the laugh started to fall from her lips to realize where that question could be coming from. “What does that have anything to do with your mission?”

“Well, we wanted a baby brother or sister, but Rickon told us we couldn’t make that happen, that was all up to you and papa. But he didn’t explain why! But now that you know, you can make it happen, can you, mama?”

Damn.

She shouldn’t have asked that.

She swallowed and felt her heart beating faster for a whole different reason than before. Jon hadn’t touched the topic ever since they first talked about it, but she knew his desire to be a father from the very beginning, even if he already was the best papa to their boys… she’d thought about it deeply and started to consider the possible options.

She could make new tests… there was much more advanced technology these days that could help them in having a biological child. But if it that couldn’t happen, Daenerys knew that that wouldn’t be over. They could always adopt and make their family bigger; she knew they wouldn’t love their child any less because they didn’t have their blood.

After all, the little three dragons that were the lights of their lives proved that.

“Maybe…” a straight ‘no’ wasn’t an option, she didn’t want to crush the boy’s hopes, and avoiding the question would do no good, for Rhaegal was as stubborn as it came and wouldn’t be fooled so easily. “Now, you look very good, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, I look like a papa, right? Look! He made me the bun in the hair like he always has!” he moved his head to show her the man bun on his hair. “Isn’t it cool?”

Daenerys smiled. “It is. And your papa? Is he nervous?”

Rhaegal shrugged. “Eh. He told me he’s a little bit nervous, but I think he is all nervous.” He gasped and held up one finger all the sudden. “He told me to tell you he can’t wait to see you and that he loves you lots!”

“Lots?” She chuckled, narrowing her eyes. “Well, when you go back to him tell him I love him lots, too. And I love you lots, lots, too.”

He grinned. “I love you lots too mama!”

Daenerys moved him closer by taking his little hands and squeezed him in a hug, kissing him on the head and lifting him off the bed to place him on the ground, putting her hands on his face once he looked up at her.

“Go on. I’ll see you there. Don’t go wandering anywhere with your brother, no matter how much you like the place to explore, do you understand?”

Rhaegal dramatically sighed out and nodded. She smiled, knowing he’d do as he was told because he and his brothers had been as excited as them about this day. She kissed the top of his head slightly before watching him run out of the room. In truth, he and Viserion should arrive with her as well, just to make things easier, but the boys didn’t want to wait so long to meet the Godswood.

Drogon, on the other hand, claimed he was not going to leave her alone in such special day. Such a little gentleman he was.

Daenerys turned to the top of the hairdresser to take the box from there. She placed it on the floor and took the high, white heels out to start putting them on. She groaned a bit to feel the pressure but knew it was all worthy as she stood up and walked up to the mirror, watching the difference it made.

She let out a long sigh and smiled to her own reflection.

This was her day – their big day.

**III**

“What’s taking them so long?”

Arya shrugged. “Maybe she regretted it at last moment and decided to run away?” the glare Jon sent to her way was enough for her to try to suppress the smirk wanting out. “Don’t worry; even if she wanted to do that, the boys would drag her back.”

Jon laughed the tension on his shoulders off and nodded, knowing that to be the truest thing there could be – but he was still concerned, thinking that maybe something had gone wrong with the dress, or something could have happened with any of the boys…

That Daenerys arrived in the place was a fact, but it’d been more than five minutes since Sansa took Rhaegal and Viserion with her to walk them to the entrance with their mother… should he be worried?

“Arya, go see.”

“What?”

“Go see if something happened.”

“You need to chill, Jon.”

He frowned. “It’s my wedding day, how am I supposed to chill?”

The seventeen year old girl nodded. “Good point.”

“I can go,” Rickon’s head appeared between the pair of siblings. “I’ll be right back with the news.”

“Don’t do that,” Bran drove his wheelchair to Jon’s way, whispering as much as he could for them to only hear him. “People will think something bad happens.”

“The first one that dares to say something…” Arya started to warn.

“If Daenerys even bent her ankle, Sansa would already have come running like the worst disaster has happened,” Jon smirked to his younger brother, imagining how distressed their sister would be because of that – and knowing she’d spread it to him very quickly. “The boys must be nervous. It’s all right.”

Jon took a deep breath and nodded to his brothers and sister, watching as they went back to their front seats. He glanced over the gusts; to the left was family and friends, such as his uncle, his siblings, the three empty seats for the kids, Missandei, Sam and Gilly, Tyrion, Ser Jorah, Ser Davos with a couple of friends from the Night’s Watch, and surprisingly enough, Tormund – even if he told him many times he wasn’t going to go and Jon believed him, yet he did come. To the right where placed the less close guests; not more than four men that he knew from Winterfell’s town hall, the two Tyrells women, the Greyjoy siblings and the Martell woman along with her daughters. It wasn’t much of a big ceremony, but that was enough for them.

He glanced over Sam and Tormund, his best friend gave him a firm and confident nod, and the redhead man smirked to him, as if he could know how nervous he was. He barely shook his head to him in a amusement.

Jon turned to the Heart Tree, trying to concentrate on the red leaves shinning against the sun. He had nothing to worry about; Bran was probably right, the boys must have gotten nervous. They were incredibly calm for his liking… he wouldn’t be surprised if they freaked out at last moment and Daenerys was trying to calm them down.

It was just that.

His eyes shifted to the carved face on the Heart Tree, the familiar lump starting to form in his throat to have a particular memory flashing across his mind.

_“One day I’m going to marry the love of my life here.”_

_Ten year old Robb rolled his eyes at him. “Hold on, Shakespeare. You know no man can tell lies in front of this tree, right? Father told us.”_

_“That’s why I’m telling you this now. I am going to marry the woman I love most here and we’ll have a pretty good family. You’ll see.”_

_His brother laughed and wrapped an arm around him, both of them staring at the big tree in front of them. “Yep. I’ll be sure to see that.”_

_“You promise?”_

_“Of course I promise.”_

Jon half grinned, remembering the insecurity Catelyn would put in him back in those days when she’d constantly try to make Robb spend less time with him, as if that was even possible. He’d needed the assurance from his brother that he was going to be there for him on that day, but they could never know that was never going to happen.

The priest appeared behind the small altar that was put up in front of the heart tree, blocking his vision from it, but he frowned as his gaze followed a single, red leave flying around the air and slowly falling on his feet.

Robb.

The music – a beautiful instrumental song that Daenerys picked called _Th_ _e Truth_ , started to sound through the place. Jon turned around, hands holding together in front of him to try to hold back his nerves cracking up, and watched Rhaegal and Viserion appearing on sight, starting to walk through the green path between all the guests.

Each boy held a pillow with their respective rings on them. They kept looking around them without stopping their steps, as if they were actually surprised that there were people attentively watching them; he could recognize their rigid postures, filled with tension. As soon as they locked eyes, he gave them an encouraging smile that seemed to relax them as their shoulders dropped.

Jon bent down and watched the little smiles breaking in their faces as they reached him.

“Hello papa,” Viserion said in a low whisper. “Did we do it good?”

“You did it very good, boys, I’m proud of you,” he kissed their foreheads and nodded to them. “Now go give the rings to Sam and Missy, okay? Like we practiced.”

Both Rhaegal and Viserion nodded quickly and hurried to give the rings to Sam and Missy on their seats before walking back to his side, staying at his right and giving him big smiles for a moment before they looked forward.

He followed their gazes, and that when he saw her.

Daenerys was standing on the entrance of the path, looking like the angel he knew she was… like the woman he’d always known was meant for him – he’d waited his whole life for this, to have the love of his life walking down the green path that headed to him and the Heart Tree behind him.

His life had known darkness, true darkness, when he was nothing but the Starks’ bastard and could never live up to their name or when he thought he’d never be on the road of happiness again without his family, but deep down there was always a pinch of hope that one day, light would come to fill him and never leave. That was what Daenerys meant to him, with the little flowers in her head and the white gown sliding on the ground with every one of her steps, with the wide smile that reached her purple, watery eyes.

She was his light. She’d always been.

Daenerys blinked, feeling the first tear starting to make its way down her cheek, her hand clinging to her son’s to have something to hold on and to remember she couldn’t start a waterfall of tears right there and then, but the growing feeling was there… she couldn’t help it, not with Jon looking at her like that down the aisle.

With that tenderness in his dark eyes that she was familiar with, but she was starting to get close enough to see the sparkling inside them growing with tears.

She’d married before, but not like this. She had an manipulative and abusive brother hurrying to sign the documents to marry her off, she had no one to support her; she had a man that wanted to end it all quickly to have her as a wife because he desired her, but didn’t truly love her back then, not really.

She didn’t have all the lovely people surrounding her, or her friends giving her smiles of confidence, or the Stark boys and girls watching her with delightful gazes, or the child holding on to her hand to balance her overcoming emotions, or the two boys at the end of the path that had happiness written on their chubby, little faces.

She certainly didn’t have a man that kept looking at her like she was the most precious thing in his world. She didn’t have Jon to make her feel this loved before.

Daenerys glanced down, feeling another pair of eyes on her and met jubilant orange eyes of her son staring back at her, making her wonder for a moment if the intense emotions inside her were all hers to claim or they were tangled with her children’s, for it was no surprise to her that they could feel what each other kept inside.

She frowned slightly to see Drogon stopping on his tracks, looking forward to show her his brothers right in front of her, her eyes slowly moving up to meet with his dark gaze, realizing they’d reached the end of the path.

Drogon’s little hand that held hers moved to Jon’s as it slipped from hers, letting it fall on his. He walked between them to Rhaegal and Viserion, but all Daenerys could focus on was Jon’s fingers interweaving with her own, his body moving closer to lean in and rest his forehead against hers, their eyes piercing into the other, feeling as if there was no one, nothing, but them.

Jon’s lip curved to the side. “Hi.”

Dany merely laughed, fearing that her eyes would betray her and let out all the tears she kept fighting back inside. “Hi.”

Both of them turned to the priest waiting behind the made up altar, an old man that Jon had known his whole life and could be the only one he trusted to do this with.

“We’re here this afternoon to –”

There was a clear of throat that made both Jon and Daenerys frown and look down to see their three children were still standing next to them instead of walking back to their respective seats.

Rhaegal stepped forward, towards the altar. “Mr. Priest, can I read something first? Please?”

Daenerys was utterly confused but curious all the same and Jon started to have a smirk tugging at his lips, as if he was starting to realize something. The priest looked at them for guidance, but one glance to Jon said it all; he could let the boy read whatever he had planned.

“Yes, young man. You might speak.”

Jon watched as Rhaegal looked at each of his brothers and behind him, towards Sansa and Missandei, who gave him small nods of heads – now he understood where the boy’s nervousness was coming from and why he’d spent so much time with these two.

“Thank you.”

Drogon and Viserion stayed back as their brother stepped forward to stand in front of the altar, Jon and Daenerys moving a bit aside to let everyone see him. They could see him swallowing hard and taking out a paper from the pocket of his pants to look down at it.

Daenerys remembered all the times that she’d caught Rhaegal, Viserion and Drogon studying with Missandei, even when she didn’t have to do that anymore because she’d been working with her at the Company ever since she’d taken it back. She thought of it to be strange, because the boys weren’t eager to start school at all, and she would have believed that they were up to something, but she’d trusted in her friend when Missy told her she was just teaching them how to read more properly so they could excel in their first school.

Even when they were back in Winterfell for the weekends, they were often seen with Sansa reading cards and children book, and she’d naively started to think that Viserion had carried on his love for books to his brother, but of course there was something else…

“This is something from us… even if they didn’t want to read it in front of everyone,” Rhaegal nodded to Viserion and Drogon, who seemed to be as nervous as their brother. “Auntie Sansa and Missy helped us write it and read it. So I hope you like it,” Daenerys and Jon looked at each other, knowing that the cards could say a simple ‘We’re very happy for you’ for all they cared that that would be enough to melt their hearts. The little boy looked down at the paper between his hands and took a deep breath.

 _“Dear mama and papa; we wanted to tell you we are very, very happy that you are getting married because we always wanted you to be together and we always knew that you were going to be together even though you needed a little help. We’re glad we made the Dragon-Wolf mission and that it was a success! Because we’re dragons and dragons protect their mama, but now papa is there to take care of us all too and we love that. We love that we’re a family of dragons and wolves; that’s a pretty cool family, isn’t it?”_ the sound of many laughs echoed through the place. _“We love you, mama and papa. Thank you for always playing with us, for taking us to the places we want to go and for not getting too mad when we get in trouble, we swear we never mean to! And thank you for being the best parents in the world!_

_Love,_

_Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion.”_

Claps were heard all around them, Daenerys being sure to applaud them as much as she could. She bent down to receive their hugs, even if it hurt because of her high heels, but she needed to have her arms wrapped around them and share a knowingly smile with Jon – they couldn’t love these three more.

She was proud of the three little men she’d raised on her own for six years; they were such kind, sweet kids she couldn’t believe she’d helped made that happen. Dany wanted their hearts to stay this pure their whole lives, but she knew that wouldn’t be possible, not with the world they lived in, but something was for sure; they were always going to be good hearted kids, and that was enough for her.

“We love you so much,” she whispered before placing a kiss on each of their heads.

“That was beautiful, boys,” Jon added nodding his head, squeezing their little hands in support. “Thank you. We loved it.”

“You’re welcome!”

The three of them kissed their cheeks quickly and ran to their seats, taking their places next to the Starks siblings. Daenerys looked at Jon and took his hand as they turned back to the priest, giving him a nod to confirm everything was ready.

“That was a beautiful message indeed. As you all know, we are here to celebrate…”

Jon paid attention to every one of the priest’s words, but he knew them by heart already, with all the weddings in the North he’d attended, so he couldn’t help shifting his gaze to the woman next to her, that was truly concentrated on what the priest had in store for them.

Her breathtaking profile could have him hypnotized for hours. He remembered that peculiar feeling, when not longer than six months ago, they were playing the same roles and he was mad as hell to Daenerys but could never take off his eyes of her. They’d played bride and groom back then, when Rickon needed a ‘wedding scene’ for his theater class which they’d later find out was nothing but a plan of the children’s so famous mission.

He could have never imagined that six months later, that little game would be nothing but a good memory that reflected what would be the best moment in his life in the future.

Daenerys moved her head slightly to him, catching his staring and giving him a glowing smile. Jon remembered thinking she was acting all the through the wedding game back then, for the loving in her eyes had to be false, but there was nothing of the like now – the love in her eyes was all real, and all for him.

They both focused back on the priest, listening mindfully to him, knowing they had to keep in silence until he’d ask;

“… is there any words you want to say before your vows?”

Jon and Dany turned to each other, holding on to the other’s hands, being sure to look at nothing but their eyes as they filled their chests with courage.

“To this day I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you choosing me, of all people,” Jon started, gaining a narrow of eyes from Daenerys, fully knowing she hated when he’d say that, fighting back that she was the one that should say that. “Not that I’m complaining, of course,” the warning gaze was soon gone as her fascinating eyebrows came in together and a tiny smile curved her lips, making that face she’d always make whenever something softened her already gentle heart. “You and our boys are everything I’ve ever wanted and beyond that – I will never be able to thank you enough for that, for our beautiful family. My father always told me a man can’t lie in front of this tree; I was a child when I said, right here, that I was going to marry the love of my life here one day… now I tell you this; nothing will ever be able to separate our paths from now on, because nothing can break what we have, and I promise I will always make sure of that.”

Daenerys felt his thumbs rubbing the skin of her hands, the careful tears slowly slipping down on her cheeks as her eyes wouldn’t dare to move away from his, as if they were there to hold her together.

“I can only thank you for being my home, which is… everything for me,” she took a short breath to then let it out. “I learned that home isn’t a place, home it’s the people you love most, but also the people that make you feel loved most, and that’s you, Jon. That’s all you. You, and our children,” she turned her gaze towards her three delightful boys, smiling to see Ghost walking towards them to sit in front of Rhaegal and obediently look up at them with his bright, red eyes. She focused back on Jon, noticing the tears shimmering in his dark, grey eyes. “Are the home I’ve never dreamed of… that I thought I could never, ever, have, and you made it possible, with your brothers and sisters taking me in, with your amazingly way to always show me your love, to know that you’d never give up on me. I, for one, can promise to always take care of this – of our home.”

There was a thin, peaceful silence as they moved back towards the priest and the old man reached out to tie a ribbon in a knot around their joined hands before his voice was heard again;

“Let it be known that Jon Stark and Daenerys Targaryen are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder. In the sight of the Old Gods and the New, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity,” he unraveled the ribbon then and nodded to them. “Look upon each other and say your vows.”

Jon and Daenerys turned to their sides and nodded to each other before parting their lips in sync to speak up.

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger… I am hers/his and she/he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.”

They both gifted the other a bright smile in the end before Jon came closer to her and took her face between his hands as he lowered his face to hers, catching her soft lips in a sweet kiss. Daenerys sank deeper into it, wrapping her arms around his neck to bring him closer to her, the claps and cheers sounding in the air around them seemed to disappear in a snap of fingers; nothing mattered to them more than feeling each other in any way possible.

She felt Jon’s smile on her lips, his arms encircling her waist as he spun her around, making her break away from him to laugh out loud, holding on to him to keep her balance and opening her eyes to see all the people up from their seats, the sound of their applauding and cheering starting to echo in her mind.

The Targaryen brothers and the Stark siblings were the first to come up to them to hug them and congratulate them, followed by the close friends and other guests, but soon enough the new Stark-Targaryen family found themselves in a much clear part of the forest, near a lake, to take the wedding pictures before going to the reception that would take place in one of the most beautiful Gardens in Winterfell’s center.

But for now, they kept enjoying the pictures; first they thought about being just them and the kids, but Jon came up with the idea to add his siblings, and suddenly Daenerys couldn’t imagine it having another way.

The girls pictures, the boys pictures, the siblings pictures, the children and parents pictures, the Ghost and the boys pictures, the married couple pictures were already all done – but there was one missing.

The Starks and Targaryens got all together and smiled for the last pictures.

“Mama, papa, look!” Rhaegal jumped in front of her as soon as the camera showed the last flash and all the others started to spread around the place. Daenerys moved her eyes towards him to see him taking out a paper from his pocket and handing it to her; she took it and turned it around for Jon to see too, expecting to see the letter that he’d read out loud back in the wedding in front of everyone, but finding something else. “It’s the Dragon-Wolf mission paper! All the plans are there… and we got to cross out the last plan, which means they’re all done!”

_The Dragon-Wolf mission_

_Goal: mama and Jon to be together so we can all be a family._

_~~1\. Get Arya to ask mama to go to the bar the grown-ups go~~ _

_~~2\. Tell mama to give Jon’s jacket back to him~~ _

_~~3\. Play with Jon and speak to him about mama~~ _

_~~4\. Jon to play with mama and us; the Wedding game~~ _

_Arya said mama and Jon kissed in the bar!_

_~~5\. Get mama and Jon to spend more time together~~ _

_~~6\. Help Jon and mama realize they should be boyfriend and girlfriend~~ _

_~~7\. Convince Jon to live with us forever~~ _

_~~8\. Get Jon to be our papa~~ _

_~~9\. Help Jon and mama marry each other~~ _

_~~10\. Get to be a real family!~~ _

It brought new tears to her eyes to see how excited and involved her children had been from the start; the mission and paper itself being proof of it. She looked up to find Jon’s eyes into hers, knowing they were thinking the same; this wasn’t only their shared dream, it was their children’s as well, and that could only make them treasure this blessing day even more.

“So you can say it was a success,” Jon shifted his gaze to the little boy in front of them and the other two coming up to stand at his brother’s sides.

Seriousness took over Rhaegal’s features as he nodded. “The Dragon-Wolf mission _is_ accomplished.”

Viserion smiled widely. “Best mission ever!”

Daenerys chuckled. “Best mission ever, indeed.”

Drogon nodded in agreement. “So you know now, if you want something done, you can always tell us and we can make a mission of it! We always accomplish missions…” he titled his head in curiousness, staying silent for a moment. “Can we work of that when we’re grown-ups?”

Rhaegal’s green eyes widened with excitement. “That’d be awesome!”

“Yeah!” Viserion clapped. “We’re going to accomplish many missions when we’re grown-ups! We should tell Rickon, we can make a company just like mama’s!”

The three boys nodded excitedly to each other before running off towards the youngest Stark, Daenerys looked down to the paper between her hands, knowing she was going to save it as if it were the most valuable thing in the world.

“Here are the last pictures…” the photographer said coming up behind them, holding the camera to show them. “Do you want to see them?”

Daenerys nodded as Jon took the camera for them to see. The first picture of all of them together was correctly precious, but it was the second one that caught Dany’s attention more, having a feeling she’d seen this picture somewhere before… even though it was impossible.

It started with Rickon at the right, making the peace sign, followed by Arya at his side, with Drogon at her hip, both of them sticking out their tongues with smiles written on their faces. Jon was next to Arya, his arm around Daenerys’ waist to hold her close to him, her head resting on his chest as they smiled brightly, their dark and purple eyes shining against the sun, Rhaegal was sitting on the ground in front of them, his little arms encircling Ghost’s neck, hugging him to him, as the white wolf kept his tongue out and ears up. Sansa was next to Daenerys with Viserion at her hip, their heads together as they gave wide, sweet smiles to the camera, the little boy’s hand hanging in the air to be held by Bran next to them, sitting on his wheelchair, but with a warming and sympathetic grin on place.

It hit her then. She’d seen one picture like this when she first entered the Stark’s house; it was of all of the Starks before, looking like the happy family they were.

Daenerys swallowed hard, remembering what she’d felt back then. She’d longed for that, for she never had a real family like that, not until she had her children, but it wasn’t like this either… something was missing. But not anymore.

She didn’t have to dream of having a loving family anymore… her purple eyes looked up, seeing Rhaegal and Drogon on top of Bran’s lap as Arya kept pushing her brother’s wheelchair, getting the boys’ laughs as she further the speed, Rickon being sure to film them with his new phone, and Viserion running up to Sansa to show her the beautiful flowers he’d just picked from a tree nearby.

Family.

“Home,” Jon whispered next to her as she looked up at him and stared into his dark, sparkly eyes, giving him a tiny smile to know he had the same thoughts – feelings as her.

“Home.” She repeated with a nod, eyes closing for a moment to take in the kiss he placed on her temple, and opening then to look back at their family.

Who would have thought that a dragon’s home would be with a wolf? Daenerys could have never foreseen it, but now that she found it, she couldn’t imagine it otherwise.

She found her home, her happy ending.


End file.
